


I've Long Forgot Exactly Who I am.

by Fraulein_Eule



Category: Mayhem (Band)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Bonding, Concerts, Death, Depression, Drinking, Family Bonding, Friendship, Jealousy, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Parent(s), Loss of Trust, Lovers, Other, POV Female Character, Party, Past Character Death, Past Drug Use, Repressed Memories, Rough Sex, Sad, Sex, Strangers, Suicide Attempt, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2019-07-22
Packaged: 2019-08-25 07:53:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 35,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16657183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fraulein_Eule/pseuds/Fraulein_Eule
Summary: Madness takes its toll.  Please have exact change.  ~Author Unknown





	1. Like A face You've Never Seen Before

This place was baffling and to think I had unearthed it by accident due to some locals that coaxed me to follow them.

Initially, I was hesitant because of all the horror stories my father informed me back in his traveling days. I made certain I didn't leave the apartment without a weapon of any kind in case I was to be murdered or worse. I was shipped to Oslo, Norway, for a job to find the most interesting story the would make any normal person cringe. I managed to publish a few stories back to the states, but they were nothing major. They became popular in the United States, and all the credit was mine to take, but the beautiful scenery was of its own credit. The trip stared all due to a bet by our company, my dart landed in Norway while everyone else deflected a bullet in the states or somewhere in Europe. I didn't mind, It just meant that I was sent somewhere cliché and no one appeared to be producing anything interesting near the Norwegian nation. The stunner of this situation was unbelievable and looked frequently better in person than in a magazine. I was experiencing the pleasant breeze, the feel of the refreshing water surrounding my feet and the history. What you produce with a magazine that's a tangible dream caked with ink and easy paper to cut and throw away.  
It was unmistakably an imitation. Nothing compared to this experience.

My gaze would shift around the place, and more people would keep pouring in from all directions as my tour guides were laughing and jumping around like rabid dogs. The place smelt of stale beer, woman's perfume and the occasional smell of raw acrid air, heavy and festering scent mixed with elbow grease. The situation was unpleasant nor was it decorated to look that way and I swore I was likely to be given to Satan. What made matters worse was that I was in the front of the stage, starting at the instruments that glistened in the light. The voice filled the air as I tried keeping my focus on my task and would question myself as to why I was here. I wasn't aware there was going to be a show tonight, but packed my camera and made certain the flash stayed off, out of respect for everyone. A group came gathering around the stage, but others preferred remaining at their table for fear of losing their spots.

"You are going to love this, trust me." Stated one of the locals.

I only frowned, but I knew the local was going to tell me what the event was. It bothered me I had no knowledge of this event and yet I still managed to get in. This could be some kind of joke to prank me. I was a tourist after all and it was common. I originally came to see if a school would accept my resume and maybe I could take a few journalism classes. I had always been dismissed for my articles and was only praised for my stunning”and marvelous photographs. The more I thought about it, the more I recognized what a pretentious, misogynous asshole my employer absolutely was. Quitting was out of the questions since this trip was my biggest payday and finding that sort of pay was hard to come by.

I held onto my camera for dear life, mostly because it was an priceless piece of equipment that I couldn't replace. I merely hope that whatever is going to happen tonight is worth my time and the cost of my life. I was determined that this night was going to be my meal ticket, and I would never have to worry about paying rent by the skin of my teeth.

The lights started to dim and the masses started to howl and scream, saying things I was incapable to understand. The locals I humbly followed cheered enthusiastically as they shoved each other playfully and persistently tried speaking correctly to me. I, of course, was not all the interested in being disruptive and only glanced towards that stage to perceive what the vast deal was. By this time, I heard footstep clomping all over the stage and could make out four figures, grabbing for their instruments, and right away the lights flickered on and the band played without warning.

I jerked back when the lead singer began screaming into the microphone and the crowd managed to get louder with their screams. The singer's long blond hair covered his face due to his fast movements and for a split second I saw his face was covered in some type of stage makeup. My heart was thumping rapidly as I held my heart, attempting to process what the fuck was going on, but it appeared the word steady wasn't part of their vocabulary as a the crowd commenced to make a mosh pit.

Oh, what a joy!

There was a complex line of countless people forming a circle to wisely keep the mosh pit under control, but more people would jump in and out to voluntarily contribute. I accepted this chance to snap a few photos of the band members and even the crowd that was threatening my camera's life. I promptly direct it backwards in my protection and made sure the lens was covered so it wouldn't get demolished or filthy. The mosh pit lasted for a good thirty minutes before people began getting overheated and would go back to the tables for refreshments. I took more pictures, this time getting closer to a group of women who stood head banging and what I assumed singing the lyrics.

They represent the typical groupies trying to show off their assets, get laid and then brag to all their friends about sleeping with which ever band mate. I wasn't one to judge, but these women didn't seem like they belonged in this type of scenery. Then again, I didn't look the part either, even with my leather jacket and combat boots I still felt like I didn't belong. I additionally had a bright crimson scarf draped over my shoulders, but I constantly wore it just like my choker. One of the groupies nudged me by accident, but I was more concerned about my camera. She fell over, laughing and I knew she was intoxicated and only trying to have a good time, even though her presence annoyed me. I decided to be a good samaritan and encourage the intoxicated woman up as she made her way back over to her friends.

I sighed, capturing their pictures as they jumped around in their skimpy outfits and idolized the singer. I swear they were cruder than the singer with all the screaming that these banshees were producing. My local guides were spinning around madly as they tried launching another mosh pit by the stage, which caused me to move over to the group of females. I could smell the overpowering scent of perfume and lust drenched in their clothes as I made my way past them and by the edge of the stage to take pictures. I could feel the heat beating down on me since there were warm bodies everywhere and the lights didn’t help much.

I ended up taking my jacket off and propelling it over to an unoccupied table, making it land perfectly on the chair and gave myself a victory jig. I went back to my post, making slight contact with the guitars that would look at me from time to time. His appearance was unsettling to say the least, but hence was everyone else that was part of this band. I swiftly tooksome photos of him and backed off the stage. The blond is who interested me the most, his extraordinary energy was being broadcast all over the place. His strands of hair tangling with the air and his voice booming around the room. I couldn't help but stare for a while as he moved nearby on stage like some kind of untamed animal. His howling and screaming was truly terrifying to me, but it was hard to walk away from the event. I managed to capture shots of the blond's face every time he would look up, but there was something off about the smell that was coming from the stage. The closer I got, the more familiar the smell got and knew right away it was the smell of slaughter. My mood went from exciting to worry as I looked around to see where there could be anything dead lying around. I didn't attempt to make it obvious that I was concerned; that was until I caught the blonde notice my reactions.

I scrunched my nose at the overpowering smell and slowly back away from the performers and stayed in the center of the crowd as they fooled around with each other.  
My hazel eyes met the singers for a moment, and he handed me a menacing smile, screaming deep into the microphone. I felt my heart jolt inside my rib cage as I backed off, seeking an exit. The farther away, I felt as the blonde was taking glances at me ever to often. It's like he comprehended what I already knew and then he demanded the opportunity to do it the act. I saw him kneel down, acquiring something massive. Out of curiosity, I stopped making my motions and watched him carefully, and he tosses the object into the crowd of women I had pushed past earlier.

Initially, they were confused, looking down at the floor and that when one of the screamed and ran out the door of the building. The other women didn’t seem to catch on due to their intoxicated state and gradually grasped the situation. One woman pointed her fake nail to the floor and kicked the object as she ran, causing the woman follow suit as the object was tousled around. The women screamed and started gasping as they pushed their direction to the bathrooms. One woman fell trying to get to the bathroom, another pushing her way past the crowd trying to make it out.

Being the cynical asshole, I was, a laughed escaped my lips for the group since the severity of the situation wasn’t even that serious.

I looked around to see if anyone else comprehends what was going on, but they were excessively drunk or were engulfed with other things. I endured what was to come, seeming as a target the blonde had intended, his guitarist threw something and it hit a group of men. I could hear the sickening splat making contact with leather, and a line of cuss words left the man's lips as he tried to figure out what it was. I saw the unfortunate victim pull the object off his jacket and fling it on the ground in anger, ready to fight. He was held back by his posse and left the event, practically ripping the door off the hinges.

“How attractive,” I said under my breath.

The blond threw another pig head, just breezing past me and striking a woman directly in the face with such force she fell backward onto the floor with it. She screamed so loud the table next to her focused their attention to her and watched with curiosity. She threw the head, causing it to gently graze my arm as I watched it slide across the floor. I grazed my arm, feeling the substance caked on my fingertips as I played with the goo. Instantly the smell ferried me back to a time when my grandparents came to visit the farm. The smell, the horrible screaming took me back to a time when I was an innocent child.

My eyes transfixed at my feet as people began to frantically move back and forth to and from the stage or the exit that was in the back of the building. The bold ones ventured cautiously to the front, genuinely enjoying the local music and rotting flesh raining down on them. The smell was overpowering, but I didn't have a weak stomach and got closer as the stench lingers in my nose. The large ears made it obvious it wasn't anything human, but it didn't stop me from picking it up and taking a closer look. The unfortunate thing's graceful head had been chopped off poorly, but it had a look of peace as if it knew precisely its ultimate fate. I’m reasonably certain this would be the last place it would have ever dreamed of.

 

It was profound indeed, The snout of this remarkable thing was tremendous and the ears accurately covered my entire hand. The gradual decay was maybe a day old, but I wasn't daunted and nearer to the crowd as the calling of the gifted vocalist became ear-piercing with each stride. I remember my grandfather's words, every time a pig was up for slaughter. The scent of a pig never leaves you, but if you're unused to the scent, chances are you were never raised in the carnage. I contended with the head, but I managed to fling it back on the stage as it ricocheted off the stage floor and vanished into the darkness of the torn curtains.  
.  
I was undaunted by actions of shock value, but it was a satisfying attempt.

However, the show was worth it, but I needed to recognize who they were without coming on as a stalker. My Norwegian isn't all the great, but maybe I'll get fortunate and have a translator aid me. I promptly removed myself from the ground, and what I found was the same pig head staring at me. I was too preoccupied when I experienced the force of a pig head hot my lower back, inducing me to lose balance and knock everything off the table that was at my side. The sound of shattered bottles on hard floors was unpleasant and of course I reek of the vile liquid. Lucky for me, the camera was safe, but now my clothing was soaked and I could already image bruises. I could assess the pain in my back, knees and of course my palms. I promptly withdrew myself from the ground, and what I found was the same pig head staring at me. I naturally assumed it was the same one, but then again how many did this band slaughter just for amusement?

Blood and stale beer dripped from my hands as I inspected the damage and sure enough, glass had been implanted into my hand. The pain wasn’t agonizing, but that didn’t imply I was menaced with an infection. I can only image how many germs coated the surface of this one area with dirt and whatever else could be placed there. I sighed, walking towards the side of the bar to see if there was a bartender available. Just my luck there was no one there and not even one customer occupied the booths. I glance around, accomplishing my way behind the bar to find a kit or something to cleanse the wound. I didn’t obtain anything, but used the sink even though the grime was enough to make me have second thoughts. The water took a while, but to my relief it was clear and I could wash the impurities off. The tranquil water kept everything numb for a brief while till the shifting of the glass began to become unbearable. I got what I could out, but there were minor pieces snuggled in my skin like a warm kitten.

I wrapped my hands with a small towel after shredding it into two separate pieces and cursed at myself for being so careless. That’s when I discovered that damn pig again, getting kicked around like a soccer ball by the remaining fans.

The crowd was becoming unhinged as men and woman pushed one another, throwing beer on each other or took part in a soon intimate act. I seized this as my chance to leave, but I wanted to give Blondie over there a parting gift before I made my escape. I collected the head up as I pushed past the people, ignoring the screaming and the disgusting display of affection and maintained my eyes on the blonde moving rapidly all over the stage. With all my strength I flung the head, observing it spin in the air I decided to quickly move in case this guy got pissed if it hit him. I quickly looked back, acquiring a look of confusion on his face and then that’s when he looked at me. I just sighed, working my way to the front door before receiving another glance and seeing the same stupid smirk he demonstrated me at one time before. I gave him both my middle fingers before leaving to go back to the apartment and decided I would develop the photos in my red room. I wasn’t going to be sleeping given the fact that I had experienced something that would add to the night terrors. A breeze waved over me and that's when I saw I had blanked out my jacket on the table.

"Fuck."

I didn't want to go back, but I didn't want to instantly freeze to eternal death either, damn my unreliable memory. I promptly moved around the corner and hurried back into the lively bar directly to the gleaming table where my jacket was. I was thankful it was still there and I even made certain all my stuff like my ID, my wallet and my keys were where I placed them. I sighed with relief and threw my jacket back on and went back out the bar to avoid any unnecessary human contact. I took notice that the band had stopped playing, but the dazzling lights were still on and there were people still looming around. I could overhear them eagerly discussing the rare show and how ecstatic they were during certain parts of the show. I typically took mental notes of what they were saying and that when they ultimately declared what I wanted to hear.

Mayhem.

“That guy is fucking insane! I mean, who injures themselves?!”commented a fan.

My ears perked up to that last part, but the band was nowhere to be seen and that’s what made it eerie. I was only gone for maybe five minutes and all of a sudden everything stops and changes. The atmosphere was well lit, and I could see the destruction that got out of hand. Pig heads, broken beer bottles and even blood smeared frantically over the floors and stage. This looked more like a crime scene if anything and the smells mixing in with each other was nauseating. My wonder could wholly determine if these guys were serial killers or maybe just mentally ill.

“That might get infected.”

My gaze shifted off the pigs closed lids and to a man that had been standing there for god knows how long. Looking at my hands, the cloth was in fact dirty and covered in a black substance mixed with my blood. I frowned, feeling the same sting from earlier and just shoved my hands in my jacket pockets.

“It’s not a big deal.” I muttered.

I turned on my heel only to be annoyed with people that crowed over the doors and the bar stools. I was going to be here for a while, and I really didn’t like that given the fact I was injured and tired from all the excitement. Two men walked around the area, inspecting the damages and began to clean the carnage as if this wasn’t the first time it happened.

“There’s a medical kit in the back if you don’t want to wait.”

Once he said that, my hands began to shiver in pain as if begging to be relived and healed. I didn’t want to follow some random stranger to an unfamiliar place with and possibly have something happen to me. I should just wait, but the pain was getting annoying with each movement I made. Infection would present a risk I would not be willing to take, but was it worth getting murdered?

“Fine, but don’t try anything.”

I made sure my tone was stern to let him know I was in no mood to be fucked with. He merely offered me a nod and coaxed me to follow him to the back where I’m certain those psychos were.


	2. Cosmopolitan Blood Loss

For every second, every minute I sat waiting eagerly for this guy to show up my paranoia grew tremendously an inch.

The back of the historic building was undoubtedly no better, but at least there was a place to sit and a place to escape if it was necessary. The throbbing in my hand never ceased and I was solely in a cramped room with a medical table, a damaged sink and the promise of never turning back home for a peaceful slumber. I carefully removed the soiled wraps from my hands, properly inspecting the extensive damage and instantly catching faint glimmers of glass dancing in my hand as a way to mock me. The tingling and the need to itch were unbearable because I knew it would make things worse if I did suffer an infection. My body promptly told me to close my eager eyes, in fact, my body told me to carry out things and one of them was to leave and never return to this nut house.

As the ideas began to roam, that long-haired brunette came back holding onto the medical kit for dear life. He seemed concerned and was breathing heavily as he placed the kit onto the table next to me. My words were lodged in my throat as I kept my focus on my injuries from the dried blood and shimmering glass. Conversation with strangers was not my most admirable trait and that made things awkward, but it made it easy for me to never declare anything. Being trapped in a room with a stranger who was about to fondle my hands made everything uneasy. I most certainly was not thrilled about the situation of being touched, even though he seemed genuine on his promise.

“This might hurt a bit, and I apologize.” He addressed.

My attention was focused on the wall of graffiti that littered the entire room of words that I didn’t understand. That’s when the potent smell of vodka violated my nose and then decanted into my hand solely causing me to tense up and arrange my position in the chair. It consumed every ounce of strength not to scream and back hand this man in the face, but that worst part was the he wasn’t finished. More vodka poured down my hands and onto the filthy floor as I fought the impulse to scream. The smell wasn’t comforting as my hands went numb from the stinging sensation that was entering my body. I felt the abrupt ends of tweezers dig around my hands and the glass being forced away with relief. I observed him from the corner of the eye, maintaining his focus on the glass that threatened to make a new home. A deep sigh left my lips, causing him to look up for a split second to see if I was aware. The sensation could keep anyone awake and screaming would do no good if you required everyone to know you were getting murdered.

“One hand to go.”

He gently placed a large cotton square in my rosy palm and gently wrapped my right hand in clean gauze all the way to my flexible wrist. Visible relief washed over me since the worse was over and I could go home reassured that there would be no confirmed infection. Chills threatened my physical structure with good bumps when the tweezers twisted in the center, making a little whimper leave my body. All I wanted to do was go to sleep, but this chair was terrible and the atmosphere threatens the safety of my mind when I thought about it. Time wasn’t moving it seemed considering the clock looked blurred from where I was sitting or maybe I forgot my glasses again. More Vodka poured into my hand and I could not contain myself any longer.

“Fuck!” I screeched. "

I tucked my head in my lap, feeling embarrassed from the profanity that completely escaped my mouth. I knew the shattered glass was more obscene on my left side, but I never imagined the dreadful shock would allegedly cause me to lash out to be ill-mannered. Gentle wraps coats my hand and I felt the emotional tension scarcely disappear from my body. A small chuckle escaped the man’s lips as I look sternly at his direction, sorely perplexed by his odd reaction.

“I assure you there is nothing for you to worry about.” He began putting the medical kit back in its original state. “ At this time, these might assist you.”

I extended my hand, expecting something, some form of magic pill to clear this all faded, but a clear bottle occupied its spot. I stared at the bottle in disbelief and looked at him as he bestowed a faint smile.

“I can’t.” I said grimly, awkwardly placing the bottle back on the flimsy table. “ Much appreciated, but I have to go.”

I didn’t allow him time to speak and just left as quickly as I timidly entered and went straight for the flimsy door, hauling ass out into the cobbled street.

 

“You forgot your camera.“  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Heating up in the dead of night remain a routine affair to have.

Waking up hot, bothered and terrified only to look around for anything that seemed I could recognize. Realization only strikes me in gut to inform me that it was only a nightmare, but I’m still overworked from the nagging sensation and don’t even put out to get back to catch some Z's. It’s primarily suitable to the fact I don’t dare venture back into the same nightmare that still projects itself even when I am alive. Nothing in my room perpetually changes, I simply end up starting up at the same hanging light above my bed as if they were stars. My plants don’t look menacing in any means the doors and window have consistently remained the same since I draped them. The numbers on the clock were blurry, but I didn’t bother leaving my bed and turned over on my side.

My heart was still thumping rapidly in my chest, causing the vibrations be heard through my bed. Therefore, everything was working according to plan, but one phone call was enough to make me uneasy. Being far away from home has done me good, but it makes the people in my life agonize about the fact I left for Norway. I don’t mind what they have to say about it or what situation I had subjected myself in because it was my decision. How I only wished the nightmares would stop, but at least I was crying every time I woke up drenched in sweat. My hands were sore, but luckily saved by the nameless guy I ran from after he tried to supply me drugs. I should have taken the bottle; my foolish pride was to blame and above all I had forgotten my camera in the crack den.

Expertly, there goes my paycheck and my job, but like it could receive any worse.

The darkness was at least a comfort, if only it could lure me to sleep like an average person instead of fascinating me. I didn’t want to sacrifice the comfort of my blankets, but I ultimately had to get up and find that camera. I should have never gone back, but I was persistent and figured it would be a hasty trip. Drowning in regret just made things worse and the thought of losing something I was suppose to protect made me feel sick.

The sound of disruptive behavior could be heard from a few blocks away, which meant the bars were already closed or trouble was coming its way. The radio switched on, performing a woman’s voice in Norwegian which I assumed was about the weather or maybe a playlist. It was still dark outside for being at six in the morning, but I didn’t possess anything better do and decided to make myself breakfast and maybe get back to examining photos. My darkroom was a mess from last nights, frantic situation, but I still managed due to the dull pain in my hands. The pain would come and go, but the kindness surprised me of a stranger who went out of his way to help and yet I ran away. My trust issues were starting to show. I was in denial and getting close to people had consequences in my book.

Flattening myself out of bed, I went straightforward to the kitchen to make something quick so I could go back to work on my projects. The evident alarm, nevertheless, performed the similar station on repeat, but the low setting instantly made the musical voice incoherent. I never paid any focused attention to it anyway and traditionally use it as white noise whenever I was painting or developing photos. A yawn escaped my lips as I opened my fridge and realized I hadn’t actually bought anything except for liquids. I resolutely face palmed myself for conveniently forgetting the most important thing to ensure my economic survival and I intentionally failed.

How am I even still alive?  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Why do you keep carrying that camera around?"

Varg looked up to see that Jorn had entered the house after a night of running around outside in the dark. Jorn made his way to the young man who had just woke up from his slumber. The brunette had spent all night trying to figure out how to open the camera without damaging it. He saw that all the film inside had been used, but he didn’t want to risk damaging it and making the female angry. Varg yawned, stretching himself out and moved over to make room for Jorn to sit.  
The cold air had threatened the warmth of the room at Varg grasped for a blanket he had been sleeping on and covered himself. Last night was an odd one that was for certain, but he felt that maybe he did something wrong. Varg was certain that maybe the girl got scared or was making no attempts to speak to him. Her gaze was glued to the wall every time he would say something or look at her to make sure she had not fainted. It was as if she was trying really hard not looking at him for fear that if she did he would die.

“This girl I was helping last night left it.” He placed the camera back onto the table, staring at it before giving his attention back to Jorn. “ Don’t tell the others.” 

” A girl?“Jorn only gave him a frown. “ As if I care about that.”

Jorn thought for a moment before recalling a female that was stalking around the stage, taking photos, but he wasn’t sure if she was the same girl. He was entertained by her attempts to try and hit their lead singer, but Pelle was only trying to scare her to see if she was a poser and proved to him that she wasn’t. Of course she left before Pelle could even try and make himself known to her. Still, Jorn was a little curious as to why she was there since she didn’t really fit the theme of what the band was going for. Still, she managed to outlast those groupies and some of the men that would linger trying to get with the groupies. She was so close to Pelle that her eyes were the only thing Jorn actually saw, like a wolf watching its prey. It truly was fascinating.

“Yeah, Pelle injured her pretty badly.” Varg sighed,“ She ran off and went god knows where.”

Jorn only raised an eyebrow” How so? Pelle didn’t lay a finger on her.”Jorn sank into the lounge, looking out the little flames in the fireplace fade.“ Besides, it might be a waste of time to find her; she didn’t look like she was from here.”

Varg said nothing and worked his way to the fireplace to give a few more logs on the ashes and burnt wood. He wasn’t sure what her problem was, but maybe Jorn was right about trying to find her. If he kept, the camera others would ask about it and he would have to recite the same story over again and possibly get mocked. Jorn did have a point, The girl looked like she was from another planet or so she acts like it. The red scarf and amber colored eyes are what stood out the most, but she seemed transfixed on Pelle whenever he would howl or scream at her.

“I’m guessing you don’t even know her name.” Jorn stood up and headed for the kitchen” I have faith you’ll find her, just don’t bring her around you, know who.” Jorn pointed to the stairs where the other members were asleep.

Varg only nodded. “ That’s the last thing I want to happen.”


	3. Gold

The pleasant smell was circulating the unique shop from the various flavors of gourmet coffee and given the fact the polished bar is conveniently located near the left side of the marked door. The foremost attraction, for me, was the baked foods. They are tidily placed on the transparent glass cabinet, lining up and waiting humbly to be eagerly devoured. There were different types of homemade cakes like Blueberry Cheesecake, Loaves and Cookies. Up above near the ceiling of the bar, there were numerous kinds of packed coffee bean packed in an assortment of colored bags. The cultural setting of the bar graciously allows satisfied customers to look earnestly at everything they could overwhelmingly choose from. It was an open kitchen style bar. The tenders wore clean and ironed uniforms, smiling sheepishly and fluent in both fluent English and modern Norwegian. There were historic photographs placed around the wall of the shop, allowing coffee tasters to admire the photo-taking techniques, and memorizing the past. I genuinely enjoyed walking aimlessly into the mini art museum and look at the lovely pictures in this hushed environment. The faint lights on the nine foot ceiling were shimmering enough to shine hotly on the chestnut colored furniture. Sofa, overturned chairs and cutting tables were all sorrel. While it combines with the dark colored logo outside, I thought I represent a slacker in a forest in this countryside setting.

My cup of tea warmed my freezing hands, and I go to sit on the corner of the shop. There was a student lying on the table with his messy stack of books and papers constructing a wall of solitude, a group of family members whispering to each other. I consumed my coffee and savored the warmth of the mint and chocolate as I examined the area. The smooth steamed milk surfed in my mouth, tasting how dense and creamy it genuinely was, but savoring it. Sitting motionless on the sofa, I could hear the soft vocals of a woman singing above me as if it was meant to be. It was a clear guitar sound, performing a progressive nursery like rhyme my father use to play when he was establishing his band. People always like reading magazines, newspaper in the coffee shop, but I enjoy relaxing the isolation of a room that was closed off and enjoyed decent music.

I sank deeper into the sofa, tolerating the tender embrace grasp me as I sipped and let relaxation take over. I haven’t felt this relaxed since my previous trip to New York and even then that was one of the harshest times of my life. My sleep patterns were all fucked up again and there wasn’t enough medication or money that could aid me. The nightmares are re-occurring whenever I undergo the stress of work or when I conduct an unexpected visit from family. I sighed wistfully, telling myself that it’s over and that it’s best to move on from something so horrific. I continued drinking my tea till I felt the last drop and placed my cup on the table next to me. The stress of going back to the place made me irritated and of course I scolded myself over and over again for forgetting. I thought a cup of tea would represent my liquid courage to just suck it up, but I was feeling discouraged about the situation.

The worse case is it was stolen and possibly sold for extra cash or that maybe it was just smashed. Every thought only made me paranoid as I tried to come up with an excuse to tell my boss what happened to the equipment. Not a single one made sense and even if it did, I would however resign my demanding job and be merely replaced by some bimbo that had no idea how to produce a camera. I had my own equipment, but that was a risk I was unwilling to take, given that fact that I only liked using it for scenery purposes. The more I thought, I became frustrated and ill over the lengthy ordeal and decided that maybe going back home will obtain a more preferred option.

I gathered my bag and hastily got up, knocked someone over by accident and hearing a thundering crash. Lucky for me, I didn’t fall, but now all shrewd eyes were keenly on me and this stranger I had bumped into. I rapidly dropped to the floor, picking up what had been dropped while profusely apologizing. The decorative plate was intact thankfully as a tender came by to properly clean the remaining mess.

“Sorry I did-“

I gather myself off instantly recognizing the person and just stood there staring at what he had wrapped in his hand. I didn’t jump to conclusions and assumed that maybe he reserved it for whatever reason and that he was a good person. The brunette looked at me and I could observe his eyes burning into mine as we looked at one another confused, not sure what to say. The tender promptly left us alone, snatching my empty cup with him without even asking if we genuinely needed anything else. Everyone’s shrewd eyes were instantly off of us for the time being and they went back to their civil conversation as one local patron laughed obnoxiously. I gripped the adjustable strap of my personal bag, getting uncomfortable and feeling the need to run away again.

“Hello, ” He spoke.

The striking brunette spoke eloquently, promptly breaking the legitimate worry and deep concentration I typically had one everyone else. All I could do was point eagerly to what he had in his steadying hand, sincerely hoping to benevolent god that nothing was intentionally broken. He looked down, extending it out to me as I quickly grabbed it and inspected it to make sure my fears were untrue. My relief was apparent as I saw back down on the sofa, covering the lens and devoting my attention back to the tall brunette. My realization was gone, but this time I couldn’t run away without making a scene and allowing this guy possibly pursues me.

“My names Varg, I didn’t get to properly introduce myself since you ran out of that unusual place so fast.”

“Oh, yeah.” I massaged the back of my neck.”I merely didn’t want to be there anymore.” That was a bit disrespectful of me given the fact Varg had just soothed me with my visible wounds and voluntarily returned my sensitive camera safely back to me. “ I’m Arthricia.”

The male sat down across from me in a chair, looking barely as shook as me from our slight accident. I looked at the floor, not recognizing what to say and inspected my camera once again before a server came over to accept our orders. She and a young girl, about seventeen years old pointed at the camera hanging around my neck with a grin. Her manicured nails were red; the desired color of cherry cough syrup.

"Are you a local photographer?" she asked eagerly.

She was wearing the coffee shop apron, her chestnut hair pulled into a ponytail; she was grinning broadly, her sleek body turned towards the side, she the intensity curves of her ample breasts, hips and arms were prominent against the most bare, with coffee and cream-colored wall behind her.

I suddenly wanted to occupy my hands in front of the camera, sheltering it. " I’m a journalist." I replied promptly.

She clapped her jewelled hands together, typically making a loud smacking sound lovely The girl squealed, "That's extremely cool. I take pictures too" She stabbed the back of the pen to give it that annoying pop. "You know what I think?"she asked rhetorically."I think you should take a picture of me. I've been promptly told I'm a cooperative model."

I suddenly felt my body become tense and I gripped the camera tightly, as if the girl might reach out and take it. "Sorry, but I barely brought film to get what I came for," I said.”Maybe next time.”

She reluctantly gave me a small pout as she went awry on to ask Varg about his personal order and all I could think about was inevitably leaving and going back to my dingy apartment. Too much interaction with human being’s is starting to withdraw me even though this personal day was supposed to be stress free. The young woman was obviously flirting with Varg, but he didn’t seem fascinated and that’s when she revived me.

“Anything for you?” She inquired in a fake cheery voice.

“No.”

She walked off, the sound of her shoes clicking as she gave the decree to another attendant, clearly performing her task easy. It bothered me when people constantly required me to grasp their picture, as if I would waste my film on some stranger that doesn’t enjoy my companionship. I scoff, faithfully keeping the camera close to me as Varg was observing me, valiantly attempting to figure out what my genuine problem was with civilized humanity. I glared at him, letting him know it was rude to stare and that I didn’t particularly like that natural process.

“Are your hands feeling any better?”

I had nearly forgotten about that dull pain that would surge though once in awhile If I was undoubtedly to cautiously lift anything heavy. I had made sure to replace the bandages with clean ones before I left this morning.

“I could be worse." I carefully kept my comprehensive hands together. “ Sincerely thank you.”

“No problem.” He sufficiently cleared his throat “ So… what were you doing there? You don’t seem-

“ I don’t seem what?” I frowned fiercely. “ Intimidating? Melodic hardcore? ”

I inevitably received the constant questions no matter where I went, but I decided that placing a label on myself would seem ridiculous. I didn’t value the opinions of ignorance and only scoffed at those types of people for unexpectedly declaring anything. I would merely prove them wrong by only embarrassing them and of course that would automatically make them loathe me. I guess that performing your job is taboo and frowned upon a less society, especially if you don’t fit into the scene.

“ I’m only here for my job, nothing more, nothing less.”

The attentive waitress came back smiling and properly placing the dainty cup beside Varg as he humbly thanked her and she went eagerly skipping off. I could still smell her intoxicating perfume in small doses and only grimaced at the annoyingly sweet scent. If I didn’t know any better I would have made that key assumption that she was bathing in the stuff.

“ I have to go. Thank you again.”

Before the young man could get a possible word in, I was out of the private room and headed towards the decorated door. He went after me, trying to not make it obvious he was following me, but I could hear his footsteps as he pleaded with me to wait for him. I turned around, not sure if the social interaction was undoubtedly even a clever idea before he inserted me a narrow piece of flimsy paper with one cruel word on it.

“This will get you into tonight's show if you want to go.” He looked sheepish. “ Just make sure to memorize the word, or you won’t get in.”

I looked cautiously at the handmade paper more thoroughly, noticing large and small spots of dried blood before looking back at Varg with evident disgust.

“Dude, what the fu-

“It’s not mine. It’s Dead’s”

“Who the hell is dead?”


	4. And I could find it, but I'd never get it back.

I've just never bothered to learn.

This time, it was a different place, a lot cleaner and there was actually a bartender. There were a lot more female surrounding the bar and of course the stage, which made me feel a bit more comfortable. It was only a matter of time before the hardcore group starts to show up and ruin this perfect moment. The pain in my hands still bothered me, but I would have to just ignore it and get on with my task. The band wouldn’t be on for an hour, but I had to make sure that I wouldn’t miss anything exciting. I placed myself in a booth so I was close to the stage, but far enough where I wasn’t noticed. The illuminations in this place were obnoxiously bright, but it truly proved the beauty of this place that was about to be demolished by the patrons. I decided to pull out my notebook and began to do small sketches of the place mostly out of boredom. The story would have to wait until I figured out what I actually wanted to write about. 

The representatives in the room started to get louder and as I had foretold, the different groups arrived in. I had to admit that they were a fascinating group even though they didn’t look friendly or wanted to hold a conversation. They were here for Mayhem even thought the vocalist had caught my interest, but getting close to him would prove to be too easy if he wanted me to. He looked like a man with a story given the fact he had thrown rotting pig heads into the crowd of his fans. His hair and makeup are what stood out to me the most, even though his screams were a force to be reckoned with. 

“ You must be the jack of all trades.” 

The familiar voice didn’t even surprise me anymore, instead if sort of bothered me. 

“ Are you stalking me by chance?” I asked. 

I heard him laugh as he placed himself in the seat across from me, smiling about something I didn’t know about.

“ I can assure you that is not the case, I saw you from across the room.” 

The brunette kept trying to peek at my drawings, but instead I tossed him my notebook so he could snoop around. I didn’t like the way he was looking at me and I felt that maybe he had some ill intentions with inviting me out tonight. I didn’t feel on edge this time, but there was something about his guy that didn’t sit right with me and maybe it was just my paranoia. I want to give him the benefit of the doubt since he didn’t look much older than I did. 

“ Why did you give me that paper?” 

The question came out as if it was something normal to ask anyone, but I was sure there was some odd reason for his actions. He closed my notebook, looking impressed with all the old and new work that had been done since my stay in Norway. 

“ You need a story right?” 

“ What’s in this for you?” I asked. “ I hope that it's nothing financial or sexual because I don’t get down like that.” 

It was not secret for the company that I worked for that most of the women there slept their way to the top. I had been sure to keep a fair distance from that sort of thing since my stories were at the top, but my photos are what made the most money. There was always something strange going on in America, but the chance of scenery was nice for once. We had six months to work on the project, but the longest was a year if we wanted the extra pay. 

“ It’s nothing like that, trust me, but I do want a favor if you don’t mind?” 

“ I guess it couldn’t hurt. What is it?” 

“ I have my own little project called Burzum, I was wondering if maybe you could write about it as an article piece and I can get you information from Mayhem." I looked at him, my orbs boring into his blue ones as I thought about the proposal. Two stories in six months wouldn’t be such a bad idea, but that meant I would have to work harder at my job. I tapped my fingertips on the table as shouts out, be heard from the bar. 

“ I will have to think about that Varg, it doesn’t sound half bad.” I said, as he grinned. 

If Varg can get close to Mayhem by just talking to them, I wonder if maybe there was a chance I could meet them. It would be a risky move since talking to strangers wasn't really a trait I had. However, this was considered a professional setting for me, so maybe that would make it easy for me. I grabbed my notebook, writing down my phone number even though I had a feeling that I was going to regret it. I tore the paper out with ease and neatly folded it into a square and placed it between my fingers. 

“ This is my number. I would prefer if you only called me in a time of need.” 

He took the square, but only shoved it into his jacket pocket for safe keeping. I went back to my notebook to review all the drawings I had done, but I wasn't in the mood anymore since the interest of Varg’s offer caught me off guard. 

“ Can I ask you something, ” He interrupted. “ Why are you here in Norway?” 

My gaze shifted to his voice as I tried to come up with a valid reason that didn’t sound self centered. I wasn't fond of people asking me questions given the fact I didn’t desire to spill too much personal info about myself. My job wasn’t a big deal, but asking about my eyes, my nationality and other things, rubbed me the wrong way.

“ The place I work for gave me a random destination on a map.” I spoke. “ We find a story and of course send it back.” 

He appeared satisfied with my response and decided to not poke me for any more info, but I was nonetheless curious about how he recognized these men since he seemed innocent and non intimidating. In fact, he seemed almost childlike, but he had something deeply rooted in him that could possibly snap at any moment. 

“ You never answered my question about who Dead was.” I spoke

Varg had run off before I could even get a word in and I most certainly was not going to chase him down. I was skeptical about the whole situation since he had just showed up with my camera at a coffee shop and now he’s here talking to me about his project. He doesn’t seem like the stalker type, but maybe it’s just an unfortunate coincidence that he keeps running into me. ¬Varg probably would have showed up at my apartment if he truly knew where I resided. 

“ Dead is the singer of Mayhem, you were acquainted last night for a brief moment.”

I frowned, not satisfied with the answers, but at least it was better than nothing. I didn’t want to come off as obsessed with the vocalist, but he did have his blood dipped all over the note Varg gave me. "

“ Is he mentally unstable?” I asked. “ He did have his blood all over the note you gave me not to mention he threw pig heads at his fans.” 

“ Not that I know of.” 

“ I thought you knew these people?” 

“ I do, but Dead is a private person. He makes if difficult for anyone to get close to him. Not even his own band members know much about him.” 

This was irritating, if that was the case, then how the hell was I going to get an interview with Dead? Surely there must be something that Varg knows or maybe the other Mayhem members. This story might be a waste of time if I don’t get anything interesting, even with the photos it would be hard to tell the story of Mayhem. I could manage an interview with Varg, but I wasn’t convinced the story would carry any meaning since Mayhem had persuaded me without even trying. On top of all this, I might also have to get a part-time job if I’m going to continue to feed myself and pay rent.

“ Man, what a drag.” I rested my chin under my palm. 

My eyes scanned the stage and I could see the same men from last night, but they looked like they were trying to set up. One was messing with the strings on his guitar as another male was checking his drum kit and positioning himself. I heard Varg make a muffled comment as I researched for the blonde who appeared like he was holding a heated discourse with the guitarist. Dead was smiling the only time as he was getting yelled at as another man intervened and pointed to the crowd of people waiting. I couldn’t quit staring and for a moment I swore that the Dead was looking right at me before Varg got my attention. 

“ Uh?” 

“ I supposed we should go to the front.” 

“ Right,” I grabbed my camera and removed myself from the booth as Varg followed.

I got as close as I could due to a crowd of men pressing themselves close to the stage with a little barrier to keep the entertainers safe. To be fair, the crowd should have a barrier after everything I had seen last night. I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea to be standing so close like this, but I was reassured that nothing bad would happen. It was hard to believe after everything that happened last night, but I had to trust my instincts. Everything seemed calm when the band started, but instead of taking photos, I watched the performance getting in a few shots now and then. Dead wasn’t acting animalistic like he was last night, in fact, he looked almost miserable, but fought the feelings and continued on with the show. No one appeared to notice since they were either drunk or wondering if they could get laid. There were a few females making it obvious they wanted to screw around, but their eyes were going back and forth too much. I cringed moving to the other side of Varg as he looked at me confused and finally took notice of my disgust. 

“ Oh, that. That happens a lot.” 

I shivered, trying to get my focus back on to the band and take the remaining shots before calling it a night. I focused my camera perfectly, trying to take pictures at different angles before something odd happened. A sort of red substance was slowly dripping down the lens and I thought maybe it was me or something got in my shoot.

“ What the fuck?” I looked at the lens and wiped the red liquid off and returned taking photos. 

I heard people screaming and shouting loud enough to make me go deaf and suddenly I felt my body shift as the crowd moved away. I was getting irritated and pushed back only causing the two females to fall down and move away from the stage. I looked away from my lens and was greeted with a gruesome sight that I was not expecting. The blond was bleeding profusely from his arm as he continued to slash his arm open and spray his blood all over the crowd while screaming into the microphone. His blood drips so freely form his arm and on to the ground with out a care in the world. 

“ What a freak!” exclaimed one of the girls exclaimed. 

I wasn’t entirely sure if it was a good idea to take pictures now or get this guy to the hospital. Dead kept singing and pretending that losing his blood wasn’t a big deal, but his movements said otherwise. I could see the concern on his bass players face, but he continued to play. I understood they had to keep up with the act, but this seemed a bit extreme and not even worth the attention. I wanted to go home, but I wanted to make sure that Dead was alright even though his blood was caked all over the floor and stage. Varg had caught up with me as I was debating on my decision, but I ignored him. He stepped out in front of me, causing me to bump into him, had he kept his grasp on my shoulders. There were simply a few staying towards that level which was a few females and a diminished group of males that looked at him like a graven image. 

“ Varg,” I managed. “ Who does shit like that?” 

I frankly believed it was wholly a prank and that everything was going to be okay, but I knew that it was tangible. I should have known better then to think that this night would be any better. 

“ It’s what he does, I’m sure Euronymous was the influence of all this.” Varg didn’t seem put off by Dead’s action. “ We can go away if you want.”

“ No, I need to stay till the end.” I said. “ Besides, it’s nothing like I’ve seen.”

Varg let go and we walked back to the stage, not even caring if the blood on either of us. The more I saw, the less shocking it became, but I could distinguish that this must be a serious marketer. Violence and gender have always been the top selling subject anywhere, but experiencing it in person made a deviation. I sighed, thinking what a foolish man Dead was for attempting to maintain the entertainment up for this long. It was only a matter of time before he fell over and passed out from blood loss. In the back of my mind I was hoping that he wouldn’t die or try and cut himself again. 

Varg could see my concern as I shoved my camera back into my bag to only watch the rest of the show.


	5. Slaughtered As She Croons To The Wolves

I went home early.

I could smell toxic chemicals, cleaning the evidence of the vocalist spilled all over the stage. The two scents intertwined with each other as I sat down near a table with Varg. My shock had broken off, but I was colored impressed that the Dead had been capable to go on for hours without feeling ill or even dizzy. However, the performance troubled me as I received a million thoughts as to why he would do such a thing. Entertainment was the obvious reason, but Varg had mentioned Euronymous who I have yet to see and I possessed a feeling I wasn’t getting to like him. Varg pointed him out to me and I couldn’t help, but laugh at how small and non intimidating he was, even though Varg told me he was bossy and wanted control of everything. 

The situation earlier from that night made much more sense to me as Euronymous was a bully to his band mates, he kept them in line. Determining the expression on the vocalist face made me wonder if he was truly happy or trapped in a dream he believed was for his own sake. When I left the saloon, I noticed the drummer of Meyhem and a female who I accepted was his married woman came over to Varg. I didn’t bother to analyze to much of what was going on, only the drummer seemed distressed about something. I wanted to stick around and watch if something would occur, only they appeared to be hush hush around the conversation. The hand movements were obvious and the drummer was trying to keep his voice down while he was talking to Varg. The brunette's eyes widen a bit at whatever the drummer was saying, but didn’t progress to any moves. My curiosity was getting the best of me, but my home was calling and so I left and went across the street to get to my apartment. It wasn't terribly late, thus I resolved to get the balance of the pictures and have them sent to Seattle tomorrow. I still needed to write a story to make the pictures more convincing. 

Another band was playing, but everyone was unfazed by what just happened and drank till they were crawling on the floor. I cringed and crinkled my nose in disgust at how pathetic these people were. It was last night all over again, but this time I had someone with me and I wasn’t feeling anxious. I rolled my eyes and packed all my things from the table so some dumbass wouldn’t bump into me or the table with beer. A man and woman were dry humping each other to the music across the room as they made a poor attempt to keep up with the rhythm. I could feel the vomit slowly creeping up my throat, but I managed to look away in time. I was certain that talking to the band now would be a bad time, since the violent display may has caused more damage. 

I sprawled out across my floor, keeping each photo I had neatly piled along the table and then I wouldn’t mess them up. I must have looked at them over a dozen times just to look for mistakes, but they were perfect to me. In total I received around a hundred developed and I made certain to save all the original ones that I liked for myself in a file. The night was cold, but my apartment wasn't all the warm so I wore layers of shirts and socks to keep myself from freezing. My bedroom was the warmest room in the whole apartment, but I much preferred to remain in the living room with my little heater. I have gotten a huge stack of letter, but I didn’t bother much with them since I knew where and who they were from. Free money was always a good thing to have, but sometimes I wish Eric would take me independence more seriously. I was distracted with my reading, when the sound of metal cans and concrete made my attention go elsewhere. I stood up to listen for any more sounds and heard what sounded like groaning. 

“ Oh for god sake, what now.” 

I peeked out my window to see some drunk moron sprawled out on the ground hugging the tin trash can. I rolled my eyes getting ready to open my window when I noticed he was trying to get up and walk, but failed and fell over again. It was difficult to differentiate if it was drugs or from a heavy night of drunkenness, I didn’t worry. I tried not to judge people for their lifestyles, but this is almost heartbreaking to watch. A deep sigh from within my chest left me, I was thinking how pathetic and helpless he was and decided that maybe the best thing was to help him. Yeah, that sounds like a neat idea and then perchance he can stab me and mug me. The more I watched the less funny it was starting to get and he looked like he was in pain. It was hard to tell what he was really doing since it was dark and the lighting didn’t do anything. I could tell he had long hair and was little like a skinny tree, but that was about it. I threw on my jacket and my shoes to make sure this guy was OK or needed me to call him a cab to wherever he lived. I took my knife just in case he wanted to get frisky with me, but given his movements and the state he was in it was unlikely. The regret and the voice inside my head was telling me this was a bad idea and to just turn around and never look in this guys direction. The cold wind ushered me back indoors as I walked out from the well lit complex and to the alley. I saw the man sitting on the ground, his long hair covered his face as he was trying to convince himself to get up and walk. I gripped my jacket closer to my skinny body and tried to find my voice. The cold made my fingers go numb immediately and I could feel my legs starting to shake and my teeth chattering in my closed mouth. 

“ Pardon me, but are you alright?” I demanded “ Do I ask to call you a cab or-“

“ No.” 

He cut me off, I could hear his speech pattern, but I couldn’t decipher what it was and went closer. I could tell at once that his hair was blond, matted and possibly dirty from the soil. His breathing was labored and he was shuddering from the frigid breeze that threatened his exposed skin. His jacket was torn and his jeans were pierced with holes along his thighs, but I thought it was a style statement or a style. I couldn’t help, but notice the shitty wrapped cloth that was soaked in a black substance. 

“ Dude, what the fuck?” He winced when I come to him and attempted to tear away from me. “Stop it.” I snapped. “ Can you stand up?” 

He nodded, making the attempt to resist as he utilized the wall for support and kept himself glued to the rampart. It was difficult to recount if he was looking at me, but I insisted the he should grab onto me for backup into my flat. He didn’t seem to like the idea of leaving the alley or going inside anywhere there was warm. I caught him anyway, draping his arm over my shoulder as I had got onto him and helped him walk up the steps and into the dingy hall. I heard him groan from the lights above and he probably could smell the filth that littered the entrance hall. It seemed like something from an apocalypse in a film with everything coming apart just about us. Scraps of paper, dirty shoe prints and the broken down mail boxes were an eyesore. I could hear him groaning with each step we took and leaned on me making his weight difficult to maneuver as I opened the door to my apartment. I promptly put him on the sofa and close my door and then none of my annoying neighbors knew he was here. I was thankful for the warmth of the room and stripped my shoes and jacket off by the door to check on my guest. He looked uncomfortable, dirty and out of place and was probably wondering why a stranger was helping him In the first place. His shivering was loud as he constituted an effort to keep himself still. I sat in the chair across from him as he shuddered and looked about my living and eventually his eyes checked on me. I was just as baffled when I discovered who it really was, but maybe he didn’t recognize who I was. He looked focused and determine to figure out who I was. His hair was covered in blood and so were his hands along with the clothing he was wearing. 

The scent of blood and vodka was stale, only I recognized that it was coming from him. 

“ I’ve seen you before.” He spoke in a raspy voice. 

Oh no.

“ Yeah, where from?” I asked, acting as if it were a game. 

His gaze never left my face and I was starting to get uncomfortable and hoped that he wouldn’t jump over the table to get me. His shivering was loud as his shoes made an odd clicking sound with his movements. For a moment it was just a starting contest between the two of us, trying to figure out one another. I didn’t want to sit here and explain to him why I was rude the first night we met. 

“ It’s you! The wolf!” He exclaimed. 

“ The Wolf?” I asked, my eyebrow raised. 

He forced himself to let out a chuckled that was raspy and tired, but he never stopped gazing at me. 

“ Yeah, the Wolf” He repeated “ That’s what Necrobutcher calls you anyway.” 

I just started at him almost scoffing and removed myself from the chair to go into the kitchen to make tea. I felt his eyes following me as I attempted to remain riveted on the tea and stuck on the fact that this guy was in my apartment. I could get this opportunity to do an interview, but he was in no condition and he might say no and take the air away. He was a strange one and maybe hard to crack, but I had to get him to trust me as I should trust him. I never had anyone actually get into my apartment and I constantly made certain no one knew where I was. It was arduous to imagine the my good deed of helping this guy would somehow benefit me. However, It wasn’t correct for me to judge him, but that didn’t imply I would let my guard down.

“ Do you have a real name or are you just called dead?” I asked. 

It was still for a minute before I heard him move off the lounge and towards the kitchen. Concern was starting to fill my body as I filled my cup to the brim and filled the second cup for my guest. 

“ You can call me Pelle.” He stated. 

I turned, he was sitting on the wooden stool tapping his fingers on the table as if he was keeping a beat. I placed the cup in front of him, grasping my own cup and taking small sips of the sweet joy. He smiled, looking at the cup and took the cup in his hands, looking almost relived for the warmth and hospitality. 

“ What do I call you?” He asked. “ Certainly it's not wolf.” 

I felt hesitant telling him my name since it was strange to others, but I took pride in my name. I couldn’t help but look at his hand that was tracked in grime and dried blood. He must have felt disgusted from all the sweat and grime he had smeared all over his body. He didn’t smell bad, but I could tell he was trying his best to be comfortable even though he felt out of place. 

“ Arthricia.” 

I went to the closet in the hallway, grabbing a few towels and a new bar of soap and placed them in front of Pelle.

“ The shower is down the hallway.” I pointed. 

He looked at the towels and then at me in confusion before grabbing the items, not sure if it was a good idea. He frowned a bit and realized that he could smell himself or see the discoloration In his hair. He took hold of a strand, feeling the crust of blood and soil and then look at me once more. He hesitantly walked down the hall and I heard him shut the door. I sighed with relief, trying to catch my composure back as I waited for Pelle to get out of the shower. I had nearly forgotten about the gash along his limb, but I wasn’t sure he would let me come to him. I grabbed my kit from under the sink anyway and waited with another cup of tea in my hand, hearing the water run through the walls.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“ Where the fuck is that moron?!” shouted Euronymous. “ I am not spending all fucking night looking for him!” 

Necrobutcher and Hellhammer were in the living room trying their best not to fall asleep as Euronymous ranted about Pelle and his whereabouts. Tonights show was a total disaster, with Pelle injuring himself and of course running off to god knows where. Euronymous had gotten into another fight with Pelle, but he wasn't going to deal with it and made an attempt to walk away. The guitars hated this and made the injury worse on the vocalist arm, causing him to run away out the back. They had spent hours attempting to find Pelle, but no one had understood him and there wasn’t a trace of him to be found. Euronymous was getting irritated and decided to leave for the vocalist to fend for himself and force him to walk back on his own. Necrobutcher was trying to calm him down, but it only made things worse, which caused him to rant and put holes in his wall. 

“ Øystein, calm down. He’ll show up.” 

“ Oh, I’m certain he will! Which means he’ll be too tired to do anything and possibly be sick!”

The guitarist was looking his cool as he stomped upstairs to his room and slammed the door shut, making the house shake. Necrobutcher cringed at the sound as he heard his friend moving around in a violent manner, cursing and throwing things like a small child. He hated when Øystein got like this, it meant that he would be in a bad mood all day tomorrow and probably for the rest of the week. He'll never let the situation go and will blame Pelle for putting them behind schedule and let everyone know it too. Pelle of course would feel guilty and apologize and try his hardest to keep the band together. 

“ God damn Pelle. Where are you?”


	6. Stuck In My Ways

I waited wearily for Pelle, getting a bit concerned that perhaps he fell, but I could detect him running about in the shower doing god knows what. He must be merely taking advantage of the clean waster, but maybe he was thinking regretfully of a way to vehemently defend himself from me. I sluggishly rolled my sore eyes at the uncomfortable thought since I had no desire to mistreat him, let alone see him naked. He seemed harmless to me for the most part, but he had some strange habits that I already picked up on. I was peculiarly interested in his personal life and how he ironically became unfortunate part of this obscure band that no one seems to stop talking about. It's never the same people that ever show up to the sinister event and maybe it was because of the extreme performance. I hadn’t thought about it, but I belatedly realize he didn’t have a clean set of clothing. As soon as I thought complacently about that I went to the bathroom door to inform him that I included a clean shirt for him. I scarcely heard him chuckle behind the dingy door as I went away from the door.

I ran into my bedroom to arrange him something clean to wear since I was certain he didn’t desire to put on the same dirty clothing since he came clean. I recovered an old box with some T-shirt and a pair of jeans that had a hole in the knee, but I couldn’t recall ever possessing these in my dresser. The box had been shoved in the back of the closet, so it was hard to tell what was all there and that’s when I realized it was my dad's old stuff. I must have forgotten to mark it, and felt sick once I pulled out the baggy T-shirt. It looked brand new and was neatly folded into a square. I sighed, standing up and decided it wouldn’t hurt to give him these since I wasn’t going doing anything with it. I grabbed a pair of black socks from my dresser and went back to the door and informed him that everything was in front of the door.

I went back into the kitchen, feeling a cloud hover over me as I cleaned up a bit and threw the tea bags away. I thought that maybe those thoughts would go away by now, but they always creep up on me. The door in the hallway opened and closes again as I peeked my head out to see that pile of clothing was gone. Everything was silent for the most part, but the ticking of a clock could be heard, but I didn’t bother looking at it. Sleep was slowly creeping up on me even though I still had no idea what I was going to do with my guest. I could let him have my bed, and could sleep on the couch considering he looked like he could easily get cold.

“Hey.” A frail hand frantically waved in front of my gaunt face as I blinked furiously and looked up at Pelle who merely smiled and pointed at the T-shirt. “ You got good taste.”

I blinked again and stood up from the ground as he moved around back to the stall, catching me off guard. He seemed jubilated and full of energy than the last time, but there was something different about him when I looked at his face. He was just an ordinary looking guy He had facial hair and strong facial feature that any female would be fond of.

“ So, hey, I wanted to aid you with that.” I spoke bluntly. “ It’s best it doesn’t get infected.”

Pelle noticed the used kit on the used counter and looked anxiously at me, unsure if he requested it to be clean. I smiled at him to assure him I was here to help and not harm him in whatever fashion. He moved away from the stool and reluctantly joined me on the other side to see if I was being sincere about soothing him. I could tell Pelle was sizing me up, but I was more concerned about his arm and his health. He was significantly taller than I was causing me feel small and vaguely uncomfortable as I frantically grabbed the kit. His uncombed hair was wet and long making him look unkind and ready to savagely attack anything that came near him. Pelle didn’t seem to realize my uncomfortable state, but remained comfortably in isolation in the similar position as I frantically grabbed the frustrating things I needed regardless. I could see how tired and unfit he really was when I critically inspected his gaunt arm which caused Pelle to flinch.

“We should sit in the living room, so that you're more comfortable.”

Lucky for him, he didn’t require stitches, but I was curious as to why he did such a thing to himself. Asking would be rude and probably anger Pelle since he didn’t appear fazed by the injury in the foremost. He sat next to me, position himself so that he was inevitably facing me and leaned in to observe me work. It was critical I did this right or it might become infected even though it didn’t seem like much. The laceration wasn’t deep, then again, I didn’t possess a clue what he cut himself or what would cause him bleed so much. 

“I bet you're merely inquiring why I allowed this? I can recognize the look on your face.”

“It would have been disrespectful of me to ask, so I didn’t bother.”

I gently dabbed some clear ointment around the exposed skin and reluctantly began to pat the raw wound with used hydrogen peroxide, watching tensely as it bubble. Pelle watched with a fascination as the foam disappeared into his sore skin. I scarcely placed a few small cotton squares around the ghastly wound and then carefully wrapped the gauze around his arm. I could feel him flinch ever now and then, but I worked swiftly so he wouldn’t feel uncomfortable anymore. The gauze wasn’t tight, but it maintained everything in place and I felt accomplished that he was yelling or even pulling away. ¬¬

“As concerning and heartbreaking the situation may be, It’s none of my business.” 

“Then why did you bother to aid me?

“You looked like you required it,” I commented wryly. “ It would seem cruel if I didn’t.”

Pelle instantly relaxed into the plush couch as if he was eagerly trying to think of carefully of proper things to politely ask me, but I wasn’t in the optimistic mood for it. I yawned prodigiously, leaning back into the couch myself and eagerly snatched a blanket to properly cover the lower half of my body. I gently tossed a heavy blanket onto Pelle as he instantly made an unfortunate attempt to seize it,undoubtedly causing it to unravel to the polished floor. The plush couch was big enough for the exclusive two of us to fit perfectly, but I was worried about falling asleep around him. I didn’t like it when awakened people keenly watched me sleep or knew I was sleeping, don’t ask because I have no idea why it bothers me.

“You should rest at ease.” I said thoughtfully. “ The wound needs healing properly.” 

“You sound like Necro,” He scoffed. “ I’m a mature adult you know?” 

“Oh yeah, because cutting yourself in front of fifty people and then running away is undoubtedly a mature adult.” 

He glared fiercely at me, but I wasn’t fazed and solely made myself more comfortable in the couch as he extended his legs out next to me. He glared at me for a good five minutes before he instantly realized it didn’t bother me. 

“Does nothing bother you?” he asked. “ It seems I have to try harder.” 

“Is that a challenge?” I shot back. “ Believe me, anything you do won’t effect me in any way.” 

He only smirked, making me curious as I leaned forward in his direction to see if he would start anything. He leaned cautiously a bit forward, keeping the distance between us as he kept that same smirk plastered on his face. 

“I don’t think you understand the potential severity of your situation.” Pelle smirked, moving nearby under the blanket. 

My eyes stayed focused on him, his words didn’t concern me since I lured them as an innocent bluff. If he really wanted to hurt me, I wouldn't think he would be stupid enough to try it since my neighbors are around or so I think they are. I could make a run for it into my room, lock the door and recover my weapon of choice. I wasn’t going to call for help like some silly horror movie girl how ends up getting killed. I smirked back, not conveying the his words seriously and leaned forward as if I was about to reveal him a secret. 

“ I’m not scared of you, Pelle.” 

Instead of running amok, I got up from the couch and walked to my bedroom half expecting the blonde to follow me. Right on cue, he rushed furiously behind me as my flimsy door shut, but that didn’t deter him. I detected his frail hand grip the back of my oversized shirt as he forcibly pulled me into his arms, but I nudged him away, causing him to get frustrated. I prevented his relentless hands every time he would make an attempt to clutch me and he would get more persistent with his erratic movements. The gritty sound of delicate music played in the obscure background as we struggled frantically with one another, aggressively pushing each other around. The dull throbbing in my pleading hands made me groan as I merely gave him one final shove, but Pelle wasn't permitting it and thrust forcefully, causing me to trip on my damn books and onto the floor. 

I only groaned, getting merely annoyed with Pelle as he stepped above me to look down at me. The odd way he looked sternly at me was menacing, but I wasn’t bothered. 

“Are you bitterly doing this on purpose, so I don’t go to your short-lived shows anymore?” I asked sarcastically. “ I can take a hint.” 

I merely heard him chuckle grimly at my careless words, but he only moved closer to me and sat awkwardly across from me with a small knife that likely came from the medical kit. He twirled it around, making it known he may cynically use it any time he wished ill if I was to carry out or say mockingly anything inappropriate. He hovered over me, his hair providing as a flimsy curtain so I could only see through the ragged gaps. His hand rested next to my head, slightly pulling my hair that was spread all over the floor. The small lights I had around my room illuminated his blonde hair and I could see the shiny end of the knife getting twirled. I wasn’t worried about it since I was open about dying or just mildly getting stabbed by a stranger. It doesn’t hurt as much as you would like to think. 

“I don’t mind you at my shows.“ He grinned maliciously. “ It’s actually entertaining to see someone as normal as you.”

“Normal?” I questioned. “ That’s a bizarre notion.” 

“You don’t consider yourself to be normal?” 

“No, because I’m not pretending to be something I’m not.” He only frowned, he was likely expecting me to get scared of him and never vow to follow him around and take his pictures again. “ So, what is your issue with me anyway?” 

He plunged the knife into the floor next to my head and had a look of determination on his face. “ I don’t get you. Its like you just showed up out of no where and it kind of bothers me.” I rolled my eyes at Pelle, forcing him off me and withdrawing myself from the floor and onto my bed. The clock blinked quickly to show me a three and a zero that was hard to look at. I was exhausted, but I didn’t want to fall asleep with this nut case around me. I glanced over at him; he had placed himself in front of me sitting criss-cross on the floor. 

“I don’t get you either.”


	7. To See Like Your Eyes Do

Waking up from peaceful sleep is no longer an innocent pleasure. 

The plush curtains add an orange glow to the morning light; every morning seemed splendid at this time. It instantly reminds me of the memorable times in the majestic mountains, watching attentively the lush hills emerge under the golden shimmer. I prevented my eyes shut because they were sore and I’m certain it was from crying from a nightmare I retained no recollection of. The blur of waking up is confusing at times because for a split second I don’t know where I’m at. 

Any face my subconscious offers has as much resonance as a total stranger. I wouldn't recognize my own father if he walked right in front of me, if he was still alive. I gained the courage to reveal one eye, which was looking up at the stained ceiling and the various lights I had placed there when I moved in. The glowing and radiant sun peeking above the horizon out of my window. It extended its vivid light across the creaking floor in my room. Its dazzling and inviting rays flowed through the window providing warmth to my body, even though it was annoying. The shifting of weight on the left side of my bed encouraged me to wake up since I knew it wasn’t me unless a large cat got into my apartment somehow. 

I was greeted by long stands of golden locks and knew that Pelle had probably fallen asleep in my bed after a long conversation. I did my best to stay awake, but my eyes would get heavy with each personal word he said. I eventually laid down while he spoke with difficulty about his band and his odd tendencies. He looked so peaceful with his eyes closed and the way he was sprawled out made he look relaxed. It was looking at a completely extraordinary person and yet I perceived small personal things about him that would make any female run.

I was too exhausted to care about what he was saying to me, but I grasped every word and could recall the things he said. I remember precisely he asked me about the t-shirt and why it was so vast, but I delivered the vague comment that it was traditionally given to me. I didn’t mind his presents and instantly decided to shut my observant gaze since I didn’t want to get up and disturb Pelle. Even though I wasn’t fond of humanity, it was undoubtedly a comfort to have Pelle here, even though last night had instantly turned into an odd one. It felt too early, even though I was certain it had to be noon since we stayed up till four in the glorious morning. The fact the blond didn’t leave after I passed out made me ponder what his intentions were. He didn’t look like the type to care about people, if the personal information Varg conveyed me about Pelle was true. I still needed to ask him if I could interview him, but I doubt he would be talkative like he was last night. 

I uttered myself a slight sigh and opened my eyes to see that Pelle was staring up at my plastered ceiling. His anxious gaze was transfixed on the lights even though they were shut off my and curtains made it dark enough to where there was only dim lighting would show.

“The way you are looking keenly at me makes it seem as if you’re studying me.” 

Before I could say a word to Pelle, the music from my radio began to screech loudly causing both of us to jump. I climbed over Pelle and quickly unplugged the radio before I realized what I just did, but the blond didn’t seem fazed. I just stood there with the cord dangling at my fingers tips trying to think of something that would make the silence go away. 

“So, are you hungry?” I asked. “I don’t have much, but I’m sure a bacon and egg sandwich will suffice.“ 

The cord was daggling back and forth like a pendulum, lightly grazing my skin as I waited for Pelle’s answer. I felt this odd sensation come over me as Pelle continued to stay silent and I just stood by watching him look at the ceiling. 

“ Did you paint that?” His voice was cracked.

I looked at what he was pointing at and saw the painting that was above my desk and realized that it was something I painted before I became a journalist. The image depicted a woman that was wrapped in the arms of a beast, but she was clam as her hands grazed the thick fur that crowed its neck. The eyes were meant to be piercing as if this creature was a part of her, to show that she wasn’t afraid of it or whatever issue came her way.

“Yes, it’s been so long.” 

“What is that creature?” he removed himself from my bed and to the painting.” I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

“It’s called a Wendigo.” I moved towards him, but gave him enough space to feel comfortable. 

“Wendigo?” he asked, turning to me. “What is that?  
”  
“ I’m not really suppose to talk about those sorts of thing, but in folklore, the Wendigo or Windigo is a mythical man-eating monster or evil spirit.” I paused. “In my tribe, it is historically associated with murder, insatiable greed, and the cultural taboos against such behaviors.” 

“Your tribe?” He asked.

I could tell that he was getting comfortable and seemed to have an interest in what I had to say.

“My father is Native American so I grew up listening to the folklore he grew up with.” It was odd talking about my father even though the information seemed vague to me, but it never  
bothered me anymore to talk about my father. 

“I actually have a book about the Wendigo if you want to borrow it sometime?”

Pelle’s gaze never left the painting as if he was etching every single detail in his head and I really didn’t blame him. I had to say that this was my best work yet even though I had a few large and medium size finished piece still stacked in my closet. I was a bit hesitant to hand them up since I wasn’t sure it I would have people over or not. Pelle was the first person to even step foot into my apartment event though it was by choice. 

“What did you paint with?” he asked, interrupting my thoughts.

“Oil and acrylic. “ I spoke. “I like mixed media when it comes to my art.” 

I heard him hum in agreement as he inspected the painting a bit further to where he was touching my desk. There was no way this was the same man I had met last night, but perhaps he was feeling trapped and offended by my words. 

“So I can make us some food if you want and we can admire more of my work if you like?” 

There was no harm in showing him my sketches or maybe even my paintings since I was feeling a bit nostalgic. His gaze finally left the painting, but he only nodded at me as if agreeing to breakfast. The poor man looked like he never ate a meal in his life given the fact of how skinny and pale he looked. I wasn’t going to ask him about his personal life unless he wanted to tell me himself, but I had this fear his health would easily fail him if he ever did anything rash. I only smiled at him and walked out of my room to prepare the food I had promised to serve us. I heard him follow shortly after, taking a seat by the counter as he looked around the apartment as I began to crack the eggs in the pan. 

I was clam for the most part, but I had that same sinking feeling I had a few nights ago about Pelle. It was nice to officially meet the lead singer of the band but I didn’t know what I was going to ask him. On stage, he seemed out of control and almost a threat to humanity, but he was sitting in my kitchen calm and curious. His blond hair was a mess and looked tangled, but somehow managed to remain shiny. His bandages needed to be changed, but I would worry about that later once he ate something.

“How come you didn’t kick me out last night when I threatened your life?” 

“How come you were lying next to me in bed when you could have just left?” I shot back.

“I asked you first.” He said. 

I gave a heavy sigh, knowing that he was right even though I wasn’t up to answering a question I didn’t have a proper answer for. The bacon sizzled slowly as I flipped the eggs over on the opposite side and placed two plates on the counter top. 

“I guess its maybe because of the way I was raised.” I said. “My grandfather had this idea that he could heal anyone he came in contact with. Of course, being a medicine man that was his passion and his respected position in the tribe. He always told me to treat people with kindness even if that person treats you badly. He never gave up on the people he was healing even though others thought it was a lost cause. “ 

Pelle raised an eyebrow. “What would you have done if I had stabbed you?” 

“You wouldn’t have since you were hesitant to follow me back to my bedroom.” I flipped the bacon. “Besides, nothing scares me like it use to.“

I was hoping that he would be satisfied with my answer even though I knew there was more I could have added. He seemed to think for a moment, trying to figure out of I was messing with him or being truthful. I placed the bread in the toaster, keeping it at a medium setting so it wouldn’t burn and make the apartment smell. 

“I stayed with you last night because you were restless.” 

“It happens to me all the time.” I turned to him. “Surly you had better thing to do?” 

“Well, you were crying so I thought that maybe you were having a nightmare.” 

“So, you stayed to comfort me even though I offended you?” I asked. 

Pelle only shrugged, not looking at me as I prepared the first sandwich for him and got the last one for myself. I turned everything off and placed the plates on the counter as Pelle’s gaze was still distracted by the looks of my apartment. There was nothing really special about it since half of my things were still packed and all I really had was the furniture and a large book collection on display. 

“You have a very nice place and it’s spotless. “ 

“I haven’t finished unpacking, I like to make sure I finish one box at a time so it’s not a mess.” 

Pelle turned his gaze to me and then the food in front of him and examined it as if maybe I put some sort of curse on the damn thing. He took a small bite from the corner to taste test his large same and seemed satisfied as he took a large bite. The blonde seemed to brighten up more, but it still didn’t keep me from wonder about his state of health. I tried to compare out writs by sight, but I didn’t want to stare at him to long and have him ask me questions. The more I looked at him, the more I felt the guilt beginning to creep its way into my body. I wanted to ask him if he was all right or if maybe he had some sort of medical condition. I continued to show down on my meal, thinking of things to ask the vocalist since he was here in my apartment. Of course, I wanted to make sure that I got his consent and also that of his band mates. I wasn’t entirely sure how I was going to make this work, but if I managed to get them all together, it would make things easy. 

“I hate to bother you, but do you have a phone?” Pelle interrupted my thoughts.

“Yeah, it’s in my room on the desk.” 

I can only image that his band mates were distraught wondering where their lead singer had gone. Of course, after attending to a couple of their shows I wasn’t so sure they cared or even made an effort to look. Pelle had left the kitchen to my room, but his conversation was muffled as if he didn’t want me to hear him talking. There was a pause and a sigh as he came back into the kitchen and asked the name of the address and hurried back into my room. I looked at the clock as the room had a strange aura that felt familiar in my early teens, but it wasn’t coming from me. I hear Pelle hang up the phone and enter the kitchen with a melancholy expression, but made the effort to hide it from me. 

I didn’t like this feeling. 

“Is everything alright?” I asked. 

“Yeah, Jorn and Varg are coming to get me, but….I kind of…don’t want to leave.” 

“It there any particular reason why?” I didn’t want to press on, but he seemed scared.  
“No, no it’s fine I shouldn’t get you involved with our band drama.” 

Pelle was hesitant and seemed to get more uncomfortable as the clocked above the kitchen sink was ticking. They could be here any minute and I could tell the male was trying to put on a brave face. 

“Pelle, are they hurting you?” I blurted out.

He shook his head and continued to ignore me and went over to look over my book collection to keep himself distracted. I knew that trying to force that kind of conversation wasn’t going to make him open up so I decided to drop it, but kept the questions to myself for another time. If Varg was coming here, then I would be sure to bring it up with him to see if he notices anything strange. The band was strange and hiding a lot of things I probably didn’t want to know about, but the thought of them hurting each other bothered me. I watched Pelle search through my collection, tilting his head once in awhile and feeling the books.

He seemed to calm down a bit; I took that as a chance to show him the book I was talking about earlier. I made sure that my movements didn’t cause a threat to him since the edge was still there. I grabbed the book as he was still searching for his distraction trying to avoid my gaze and probably my presence. The book was old since it was part of my parent’s collection, but I decided to let him read a more updated version. 

“Here’s the book I was talking about, I figured you would want something to distract you.” 

He seemed to have a hard time deciding whether or not to take the book since he was facing away from me. Eventually he took the book and scurried over to the couch to hide in the piles of blanks from last night. 

“We have a show in a week. I hope you’ll come.” 

I focused my attention back to him, watching him go through the book with interest as his eyes widened.

“ Sure, I just need a time and place.”


	8. A Prince In Exile Here In Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, it's been awhile since I updated.
> 
> I want to thank my readers for the support and I'm glad to hear that you guys enjoy reading my story. ^^  
> I want to keep updating as much as I can, but school comes first before I can do anything.

I decided to get dressed for the day, even though I wanted to be lazy and do nothing but watch TV and paint. There was nothing but silence between the two of us, but I really didn’t want to invite conversation where it wasn’t needed. I still have my itching concern for Pelle, but he seemed to ignore those thoughts and focused on the book I let him read. There was a slim chance he would want me to bring it up with him or even have a mention of it again. This was something I couldn’t ignore for every long, but I decided I would meet Jorn just to see what kind of person he was and how he would react to Pelle being here. I tried to image what I would say to them if they got angry with Pelle or maybe Pelle would defend himself. Having these thoughts made more uncomfortable and I was hoping that there wouldn’t be an alteration of any kind. 

It's been over an hour and they still haven’t shown up, so my guess is they may have gotten lost or just live out of town. Pelle seemed to relax to the point where he was starting to fall asleep, but was determined to finish the book. I was focused on my sketch pad, pretending to draw things around the room when in all reality it was him I was drawing. He was still so it was easy to draw him even though I had a feeling he knew what I was doing. 

“Why did you decide to become a journalist?” 

Out of nowhere, a question was tossed my way, even thought I had no proper way of answering it. I sometimes wonder myself why I decided a career path that I saw more as a hobby. Sure, Art was my strong suit, but writing was something I had a passion for even though I felt that it was bringing misery to me. I had practiced every line, every sentence, and every paragraph just to get the right story and have other’s see it my way. I knew the real reason behind this choice, but I didn’t want to tell Pelle that side of my life. I didn’t care if he judged me or even scoffed about the idea, but that was too personal for anyone to know. 

“It was just a whim I had growing up.” I said. “More of the fact I enjoy writing.” 

“It’s that the honest answer?” He looked up from reading. “I feel there is more to it.” 

I caught his gaze as if he was trying to see if I would give him a reaction that knew I was lying about my purpose. No one was good at guessing how I felt or what I was thinking about most of the time. That’s what caused me to be branded a threat by other competitors in the business because they could never read me. They only made uneducated guesses or assumptions that would only irritate me and cause me to correct them. Of course, no one likes having their intelligence or character insulted, but it was easy for me and made them back off me. 

“I’ll tell you the actual truth if you give me an interview.” 

The words flowed out so casually that Pelle seemed surprised for a second before going back to his stoic ways. His expressions weren’t easy to read, but I knew he could express himself in a way that would make me comfortable. I knew he didn’t trust me or maybe it was because he didn’t feel the need to trust me. I could tell he’s been burned once before, maybe multiple times under circumstances I couldn’t understand. He seemed to think for a moment, considering if my moment of truth was even worth his time and effort. 

“I might consider it.” He said. “However, if I do agree to it, I want you to keep certain things to yourself.” 

“Sounds fair, I expect you do that same for me.” I placed the sketch pad on my lap.” There are things I don’t want to be repeated either.” 

Pelle nodded in agreement, understanding and respecting my wishes since he knew a few things about secrecy. I really had nothing else to say and would figure a time frame for the both of us to conduct the interview. He went back to reading the book, flipping through the pages, probably looking at the pictures that were drawn. I have never seen anyone fascinated with Wendigo’s since whatever I said that was informational was dismissed. I decided that maybe I would surround myself with people who were more in tune with what I had to say, but then there were those people trying to summon the creature. Then I made the final decision to avoid people altogether and keep these things to myself. 

“ I’m still curious to know what you were crying about” Pella placed the book down “ You seemed to stop when I was lying next to you.” 

He couldn’t see my face, but I could feel the heat coming of my sketch pad as I pretended I was doing small details. I really wish that his friends would show up so I didn’t have to talk about this with him. I wish I could remember what I was dreaming about, but even if I did why should I tell him? 

“ Did I say anything in my sleep?” I asked.

“ No, just lightly whimpering.” 

I looked up from my sketch pad, seeing him smirk. 

I was about to throw my sketchpad at the blond, but then aloud knocked echo throughout my apartment. 

“ Holy shit.” I commented. 

I stood up from my chair, going to the peephole first to confirm if it was really them or my annoyed landlord. I could see Varg and two other men in the hallway with him, but I wasn’t entirely comfortable with strangers in my home. I sighed, looking at Pelle who had moved to the other side of the couch, staring. I opened the door quickly and motioned them to come into the apartment. 

“Come in before my neighbors see you.” 

All three did what they were told, but the tall blond couldn’t stop staring at me every time Varg tried to speak to me. I knew how annoying and prying my neighbors could be when it came to new people they did not recognize. The people who resided at the complex were judgements and all hated each other, so there wasn’t much to really go on. I have never had the pleasure of meeting the other tenants and probably never will. I could already tell there was going to be a culture clash given the fact everyone was dressed in black and had some odd accessories. Varg and myself are really the only normal looking ones who are not over dressed.   
“He’s fine, he’s over there.” I pointed to the couch. 

“Oh, thank god.” Spoke the tall, dark haired brunette. 

I joined the boys as Pelle sat down sheepishly on the edge of the couch, I joined him and the rest sat wherever there were free seats. That blond guy was starting to bother me though, but I was too focused on Varg and Pelle to even pay attention. 

“ Look, he’s just got a few cuts here and there, but he’ll live. Just make sure they get clean.” I stated. 

“Thank you….um.” The dark brunette piped up.

“Arthricia.” I spoke.

“I’m Jorn and this is Ted.” 

The blond and I made eye contact and all he did was waving, making the distinct chills from before come back. I decided to be nice and wave back before I turned my attention back to Pell and Varg. Pelle seemed somewhat disappointed that his friends showed up and I thought that maybe he would be glad someone gave a damn about him. I could only wonder if this had anything to do with the problems in the band, or maybe he was antisocial and detached from this world. The show I saw last night with Varg made me naturally wonder if the musical act he was doing was going too far or if this was something Pelle took pride in. 

“So how pissed is Euronymous?” Asked Pelle. “If he’s going to murder me, I might as well stay in town.” 

“Well, Euronymous knows if he kills you the entire album will be for nothing.” Sighed Jorn. 

I could feel the other men looking at me even though Pelle was keeping Varg distracted by his words. Jorn didn’t seem convinced and I could tell right away that he was thinking we did something last night. I wouldn’t be lying is the situation seemed strange to them since they have no clue who I was and wondered why a stranger helped their prized possession. 

“So, Varg tells me that you’re a journalist.” Jorn’s gaze went to me. “I’m sure Euronymous would take interest in that. However, now would not be the right time to ask him.” 

I wasn’t sure if I heard Pelle correctly, but I swore I heard a soft growl under his breath when the attention was turned towards me. He didn’t seem jealous of me in anyway, but maybe it was the fact he knew my interview with him would come sooner than he thought. 

“Would you be interested if I were to interview you first?” I politely asked Jorn. “It typically makes things less complicated if I get everyone’s point of view.” 

Pelle slouched deep into the plush chair, knowing instantly that I was getting closer to him and he didn’t seem to like that. Varg was confused by the lead singer’s behavior and looked eagerly at me for possible answers, but I shushed him, letting him know that I would politely tell him later. 

“ Of course, just don’t try hitting on me.” 

I cringed and rolled my eyes at the man and could hear Ted giving a small chuckle and a gesture I was all too familiar with. The main female journalist typically gave a bad name for the local company and so everyone there who was female, were branded as a slut or something unsavory. I of course stayed away from the social drama, but it seemed that this is a culture that happens everywhere. If you’re a male journalist, you were considered pushy and nosy because you were trying to get a story before anyone else. However, if you are a female journalist, you get treated like trash and labeled something that smears your character. 

“She’s not like that, so don’t assume, unless you know her personally.” Pelle spoke angrily. 

Ted and Jorn looked at Pelle with confusion as they began to stare each other down. I knew he was looking at Ted specifically because of the inappropriate gesture he made towards me. I saw the look on Pelle’s face, but his eyes were what caught my attention. I could see malice clouding over his beautiful blue eyes, making his stare intense and unsettling. It was almost the same look he gave me last night only he didn’t hold back and made sure that his message was getting through. I could tell that Jorn was getting uncomfortable and so was Varg, but Ted was trying to fight for dominance by staring back. Ted’s attempts were futile and I could tell that he was about to give in and look away to avoid the vocalists gaze. I wasn’t worried since these men did disrespect me in my own home, so I didn’t bother to speak up. 

“ I think you should apologize.” Sneered Pelle” After all, she did let you into her home.” 

I could hear the change in his tone differ from when he was speaking to Varg a few minutes ago. It didn’t sound like him at all as if he was mimicking another voice from inside himself. I caught Vargs gaze and he only mouthed something to me I couldn’t understand. I stayed silent to see if there would be a change in the situation, but I could tell that no one was willing to say anything about what just happened. Jorn pressed himself closer to my chair as he tried to keep his focus on Pelle to see if he would do something. 

“Maybe we should go.” interrupted Varg. 

“That’s a good idea.” Said Jorn.

“ Apologize!” Pelle snapped, standing up from his seat.

I jumped slightly from Pelle’s fast movements and so did Varg as he pushed the chair back with his weight into my bookcase. Lucky for him no book were knocked over, but I would be sure to inspect my bookcase for any damages. Jorn and Ted moved back as well, trying to keep their tough posture, pretending they were not threatened by the tall vocalist. I could see Ted sweat as he scrambled to find words for an apology and Jorn was doing the same. I didn’t like where this was going and took the chance and gently grasped Pelle’s wrist. I could feel the clenching of his fist starting to loosen, but his gaze never left his friends. His index finger and middle finger became loose and relaxed from his palm and I could see that his nails had dug into his flesh from anger. I didn’t bother letting go and tried to coax Pelle to sit back down even though he was still demanding an apology for me. 

“ This woman had been nothing but kind to me and you have the nerve to disrespect her?” 

Pelle’s tone of voice sounds that of an angry father due to the hint of disappointment. I gently pulled on his arm to let him know that it was alright and that he needed to remain calm. The last thing I needed was a bunch of grown men trying to murder each other over something trivial. Pelle began to relax and stepped back and plopped back down into the chair, looking at me with malice. I knew the look wasn’t aimed towards me and I didn’t feel threatened by him, but the tension in the air made me sick. I heard Jorn gulp as he took a shaky deep breath, trying once again to find his voice. 

I heard Ted chuckle nervously and say something under his breath about Pelle. He must have thought I wouldn’t hear him, but it was clear to my eyes and to my ears. Usually I am a calm and collected person, but something inside me snapped and I felt a twinge in my chest. I knew this familiar twinge and knew right away that there was no other way to get rid of it unless I let everything out. I gave Ted a scowl from across the table, narrowing my eyes whenever I was in my rare moods. I let go of Pelle’s wrist, making my way over to Ted, who seemed confused and terrified. 

“ You just don’t know when to shut the fuck up do you?” I snarled. 

I grabbed him by his T-shirt and pulled him up to my level as he struggled to keep his balance. I kicked his feet from underneath him so he couldn’t attempt to tower over me. He was on his knees, still giving me that scared little boy look he had given Pelle moments ago. 

“ I want you to shut the fuck up and listen to what I have to say because I’m not going to repeat it again.” I pulled him up closer. “ If you ever disrespect me or Pelle ever again, I’m going to rip out your large intestine out of your ass and use it as a skipping rope.” 

The room was silent and the tension was high as ever and no one, not even Pelle said a damn thing when I dropped Ted to the floor. I could tell he was slightly shaken up from my remark, but I had enough of the bullshit and the backhanded comments. I came here to do a story and not get pushed around by some jackass that didn’t have manners or respect for me. I get enough of this shit back home, there was no way in hell I was going to deal with it in Norway. Jorn sunk deeper into the chair as Varg just stared at me in disbelief, but managed to keep his cool around the others. Pelle on the other hand was smiling and trying hard to hide it from me and tried to keep his laughter low. 

“ Can we leave now?” Asked Ted.


	9. Caught Us Dismal At Times We've Known Forever

Pelle had invested the confined majority of his personal time in his disordered room, avoiding Euronymous and anyone else that had tried to interfere with his alone time. He was feeling that darkness creeping over him again, just like every show he had to reduce himself to harm. He had come back from Arthricia’s in a pleasant mood and was actually looking forward to talking to Jorn more about the album. However, that happiness was short lived when Euronymous wedges himself into the conversation and of course was to remain his usual self. Self-centered, two faced and manipulative to the point Pelle knew what Euronymous was doing and decided that going upstairs was for the best. With every step Pelle took, Euronymous would make some back handed comment about him and declare terrible things that Pelle believed due to his mental state. Pelle knew, he didn’t need to be reminded of his embarrassing failures by someone he thought was better than him. Jorn put a stop to Euronymous’s bulling since it was the same over and over again. 

The Swede sat on his disordered bed, going gloomily over the vicious cuts again for each terrible word that was said bitterly about him once he arrived. It wasn’t constantly like this, but Euronymous knew of the insecurities and his obsession with death and utilized it against him. All Pelle wanted was to flee his home and remain part of something significant, was that so much to ask for? 

A small scoff left his chapped lips as he was mocking himself and even laughing at the preposterous notion. Pelle placed his knife on the stand, taking a look at his handiwork through what little light he had in his window. He was about to snatch the knife again, and star on his other arm, but something inside him ceased him from doing it. His hand hovered over the knife as his eyes were engaged to the texture and neatly wrapped white gauze. His hand retreated from the knife over over to his wrist where Arthrica had utilized her time to repair the dejected man. His slender fingers traced back and forth as if he recalled the shortlived memory of that night. He couldn’t help, but smile as these thought even though an utter stranger he threatened was willing to generously aid him. 

Despite her abrasive nature, Pelle could tell she was kind and a generous person, despite his behavior. He leaned into his pillow, still tracing the bloodstained bandage as if it was merely a keepsake from a dear lifelong friend. His thoughts wander to the night they met and then he realized he was still wearing the shirt she had lent him for that night. He looked down, inspecting the shirt to see if he had required holes or maybe collected his blood on it. Pelle also forgot his own clothing in the bathroom and scolded himself for being a terrible guest. He was hoping that maybe she would go to his show and they would encounter each other again and maybe he could give her the shirt back. He noted the way she was observing at him when he wore the shirt, but he couldn’t comprehend why Arthrica looked dreadfully upset. Pelle desperately wanted to ask, but he figured conspicuously it would be inappropriate to prey since she had respected his own privacy. 

Pelle wouldn’t lie to himself, but he was keenly interested to know about her since she arrived all the way from America to publish a story. He harboured his shrewd suspicions that there was more to the story than she was letting on. He never genuinely cared about what was going on in other peoples lives or took an interest in getting to appreciate other people. This might inadvertently cause an issue with him internally if he didn’t get his shit together. Arthrica was palnning on interviewing the entire band, so that undoubtedly meant she was going to be hanging around them. 

Pelle groaned, slapping his hand over his face, knowing full well that she would want him to open up about certain things. He didn’t like talking to people, especially if they worked collaboratively with an industry that can twist the truth. He had faith that Arthrica would under no circumstances allow anything like that, but he wasn’t completely sure who she was and that’s what made him paranoid. All these negative thoughts entered his eager mind about her even though they were all delousions by Pelle. His mind was running wild as he tried to think of something more uplifting, but the gentle knocking on his secure door was preventing that. 

“ Hey, Pelle” Jorn peeked his head in “ Just wanted to see if you were still alive.”

“I’m decent.” Pelle said.

Jorn entered the room, carefully closing the door behind him, so it was just a civil conversation between the two men. The noise downstairs was distracting enough since there had been more than a few people over for the nights. Euronymous possessed his friends over and of course a few girls here and there, but it was nothing new. 

“Look, I came to apologize to you about your new friend, if you want we can go over there tomorrow and I can apologize to her.” 

Pelle sat up from his bed, leaning on the headboard with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked over to Jorn.

“Yeah, about that,” he asked. “ It’s not like you to be rude and nasty like that.” 

Pelle had expected if from the other guys and maybe even people he had the chance to meet, but he never expected it from Jorn. Sure, Jorn can defend himself and even get cocky sometimes, but it wasn’t like him to treat women with disrespect. He not only shocked Pelle, but it always enraged him that he would scarcely suggest something like that about someone he barely met. The conversation was never brought up when they were driving home since it was nothing but strained silence. Pelle could tell Arthrica was uncomfortable with them being in her home, but he couldn’t help but observe Ted’s gaze. It made Pelle sick from the way Ted was examining her up and down and he knew right away what Ted was picturing. Thinking about it now irritated the singer, but there was nothing to be done about it now since Ted refused to stay at the house. Jorn could tell how uncomfortable Ted was when he fled the car and even tried to telephone him to see if he was holding up alright. 

Pelle sank deeper into his bed, making it clear he required the private conversation to cease since talking about this situation angered him. Jorn just sighed, but didn’t leave and wanted to comprehend why Pelle acted the way he did towards him.

“So, did you guys do anything?” Asked Jorn

“What, No!”Pelle cringed“ All she did was soothe me, nothing happened and probably never will.” 

“I find it odd you defended her like you did. If I didn’t know any better you were getting jealous.” 

Pelle scoffed, rolling over in his bed and mumbled to himself because he instantly knew that was absurd. Even if that was accurate, he highly scarcely doubted that Arthrica would ever desire him, especially if she found out about all his frugal habits and tendencies. He tried having a relationship, but it didn’t work and every girl he encountered would think he was unusual. The local girls at the shows would flirt, but they never allowed him the time of day once figured out how strange he. Otherwise, Pelle would only end up severely sabotaging him in the end and likely thrusting him to the edge or terminating his life quickly. He never informed anyone before, but being loved was one of the foolish things he would have enjoyed, but he knew he was destined to be alone. 

“Do you... like her?” 

“No.” 

Jorn decided not to enforce the matter and further since he could sense the frustration in Pelle’s voice. Jorn didn’t mind what the relationship, he couldn’t help but feel puzzled. Pelle’s reaction to strangers is consistently negative unless they were a die hard fan, but even then he didn’t want to be surrounded by people. Pelle made sure there was little to no access to him, but a few girls will take an interest once in a rare moment. Jorn knew this hurt Pelle, but he would always brush it off and pretend he wasn’t affected by rejections. Pelle had made the mistake of taking an interest a few times, and it ended disastrously for not only him, but for the band. Jorn just hoped that this girl was trying to take advantage of Pelle and then leave wit out considering his feelings. The bassist had identified it all before and wanted to make sure that this friendship was what Pelle really needed. 

“Just be careful, I know its been a few years since the last relationship." Jorn said. " Try not getting attached."  
“I already know she’s not going to stay long.” Pelle sighed, “Besides, I’ve given up on the notion of ever having relationship.” 

Jorn gave him a half smile, taking what positivity he could get from his band mate since it had been a miserable week. The cutting and other dangerous tendencies seemed to become more frequent with each show or rehearsal. Jorn and Varg made sure to keep on eyes on Pelle when they could because moods wings and self-harm were the main things. Euronymous took advantage of these moments just to disgruntle Pelle and make him feel bad for the behavior. Jan just wanted to stay out of the whole ordeal and would only comment when it was necessary to the conversation.

“Don’t give up to easily Pelle; there’s always someone out there for everyone.”  
================================================================================= 

I had asked Varg to stay behind after Pelle tried to convince the others, he undoubtedly wanted to stay comfortably in town. I assured Pelle that I was attending his grand concert and that he should probably go back home and practice. I could tell he didn’t want to leave, but I didn’t comprehend why he would want to stay here or in town. Varg thankfully wasn’t on edge and was calm and relaxed around me even though my outburst moments ago that had everyone shaken or entertained. I naturally made it a key point that Ted and Jorn were not allowed back into my apartment unless they sincerely apologized to me and picked up proper manners. I wasn’t going to be a doormat to anyone or for anyone who scarcely attempted it try. Varg would ask if I was alright after the event and asked questions, mostly about Pelle and why he was over here.

”Look, Varg, nothing happened if that’s what you visualize.” I sighed.“Please sit so we can talk.” 

I had prepared tea and a few classic pastries for the two of us to indulge in, since breakfast was simple and small. Varg had no issues with any of the hospitality and ate more before I could get a third one on my plate. I was concerned about Pelle and how things were going to go when he got back home. I felt uneasy with Ted staring at me, but I had to convince myself it was just my paranoia. 

“Varg, I need to fathom what I’m persuading myself into.” I sighed, “ I need to know precisely if I’m in mortal danger.” 

Varg looked up after snatching a bite of his delicious pastry, raising an eyebrow at me and politely consuming the food in his mouth  
.  
“Did something happen?” He asked.

I, of course, was hesitant to tell Varg what happened last night, but I was smart enough to leave the part about Pelle sleeping next to me. I consumed my first cup of tea and refilled my cup to the top as if I was about to narrate him a lengthy story. I wasn’t sure how much I should inform him or if I should mention the fact that Ted gave me bad vibes. 

“Last night, I found Pelle laying in the alley way and when I brought him here, it’s like he changed.” I took a sip of my tea before going on. “ Pelle pulled a knife on me.” 

Varg’s eyes widened at what I had recounted him and placed his mug back onto the counter top. I could tell he was in d-isbelief at what I just told him and was trying to search for the answers. We sat there for a minute as I waited for Varg to say something, but he was speechless and looked like he was still processing my words. 

“He didn’t hurt me or anything, but I think he was doing it as some sort of warning.” I sighed.“I would appreciate if you kept this to yourself.” 

“I can’t say if you are in danger, but I know Pelle would never hurt you or anyone in any way unless he had no choice.”  
The thought puts my mind at ease, but I wasn’t worried about Pelle hurting me since I had already established I wasn’t frightened of him. However, it was the others I had to worry about since I hadn’t met Pelle’s other band mates or who he acquits himself with. Judging from last nights show, I could tell Jorn was the only one who cared about Pelle’s well being, given the concern he showed. 

“Are they hurting him in any way?” I blurted, 

“What?” Varg leaned in, getting curious” What were you guys talking about last night?” 

“Pelle allegedly told me something about band drama, and he seemed hesitant to leave my apartment.” 

I knew Varg was hiding things from me, but I wasn’t sure if it was to keep me out of the situation or irritate me. He practically clings onto this band like it was his lifeline, even though he seems to be getting dragged around. I knew Varg informed me about his project he wanted to do and how he mentions something about one of the members helping him. I consumed the rest of my tea, placing the plates and mugs into the sink to wash for later, I was curious to know more about Euronymous since he seems to portray the bully in the band and yet he somehow shackles them together. I had to be careful around him if I was to ever get an interview started with him, he seems like an arrogant prick from what I was told. I was certain he was the one who smiled at me when I went to their first show in the sleazy bar. 

“ Euronymous has his ways of keeping his band members in line.”


	10. Pretty Lush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING* Trigger warning for getting drugged.

"Hey, Arthricia. Wake up." 

I felt someone gently shaking me before they got to the point where they became rough. My eyes flashed open instantly when I heard a voice that was closer than I would have liked.That was my first mistake, since my vision was blurry and the voice who called my name was echoing. I took a deep breath, letting it out and tasting stale wine and my own terrible breath. My mouth was dry as I licked my lips and wallowed hard to get what saliva I could to the back of my throat. I heard a small ringing in my ear and then it faded with ease when I let out another breath.

I do desperately need water or something to drink, but getting up would prove to be a challenge. I felt the pain in my back and neck as I tried to move around, but the searing pain was enough to make me stop. I felt a small pop when I moved my lower half and stood still managed to prop myself up despite all the pain that desired me to lay back down. I collapsed back onto the floor with a loud thud, the ringing in my ears mocking me as I made a second attempt. Even in the darkness, I could follow bursts of random colors dancing around freely. It was almost watching a slow motion movie with blurred colors and jagged fireworks that slowly faded into nothing. 

"How much did you have to drink?" 

I frowned at the question, looking up at the figure who's silhouette didn't provide me enough insight. Darkness had engulfed the room I was in, providing little to no light from the window that had a ripped curtain. The smell of stale beer was enough to make me sick as my head began to spin from the sensation. The silhouette stayed silent and didn't move as if they were waiting for me to give them a proper answer. 

"I don't even know where I'm at." I spoke softly. 

"Relax, you came here on your own." He spoke. 

I managed to sit up properly, slapping a hand over my eyes as an attempt to wake myself up from whatever this was. I was puzzled and my memory was vague as I tried recalling what this person was talking about. I barely remember following Varg and Jorn to a house, but I was merely here to interview Pelle or something like that. The rest of the night was cut up into narrow bits, but none of them matched up and I was getting frustrated. I must have gotten so drunk that I blacked out and ended up sleeping on the floor. My jacket was missing and so were my shoes which meant I either did it or someone stole my shit as a foolish prank. I could only hope it was my own foolish mistake, but I rarely left my hair down since it would get in the way.

My fingertips grazed the dingy floor as I desperately searched for my lost items. I cringed when I felt small crumbs of food escape under my fingernails and the odd texture of grease coated my fingertips. There was no way in hell I would ever take my shoes off in a place like this If I knew the carpet was this disgusting. While I was searching for my clips, something cold pressed down on top of my own hand before I realized it was someone's hand. The hand was frozen and frail, but I didn't retract my hand from it and had a feeling I already recognized who it was. 

" Pelle?"

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My body had sunk deep in the comfort of Pelle's bed as he was downstairs making tea for us. It was nice of him to do that, but I had insisted I should sleep it off. I hadn't had time to say another word before he left the room to venture downstairs. I never wanted to think my life would ever be in danger or that someone would attempt to drug me. My legs were still unsteady and weak, so Pelle offered to support me up and escorted me to his room to sleep it off. I was more angry than scared by this point and wanted to find out who had performed this to me as a prank. At the minimum, that's what I was expecting it was, that's what I have been advising myself since everything else I had with me was missing.

I still had my keys to my apartment in my pocket and of course my wallet with the most important things. I did my best to keep my head back and out of my face, but I was more worried about it getting tangled.

My head still hurt and the random bursts of colors never went away since Pelle's lamp was on when we came in. The light made it worse, so I made a point not to look directly at it and focused on the ceiling that was littered with band posters. His room was clean, but his desk area was messy, papers, books and even paints brushes scattered the entire space. His bed wasn't made, but then again he must have woken up in the middle of the night to get something. The clock on his night stand was blinking the wrong numbers, but I knew it was early which meant that the dawn was coming. It dawned on me that I was sitting on Pelle's bed in his room looking at his interests and hobbies, but I was distracted by my headache.

The window in his room was wide open which let cold hair drift in once in a while, but I really didn't mind. It didn't help that I was wearing this long sleeved wool sweater and wool socks. I decided to try and stand up, so I could make my way to the window to enjoy the breeze and avoid getting overheated. My steps were shaky, but I managed to make it to the window and placed myself in the battered chair the was next to the window. I gathered a deep breath, watching my breath escape to the window and outside to wherever. I stuck my hand out the window, feeling a slight breeze graze through my fingers and gentle trickles of snow stroke my skin.It was falling high from the roof and scarcely managed to caress my face, sending a slight chill throughout my body. 

"You're going to get sick if you keep doing that."

"It's hot." I commented.

I was optimistic I would have more time today to take a look at his room and maybe talk with him more, but that might not happen. With everything that happened tonight, it seemed no one would be doing anything today except for sleeping the day away. I already knew Pelle wasn't talkative, but I was hopeful he would give me something to write about. I scoffed at myself, thinking about work at a time like this when I should be more concerned about my health. 

"How are you unconcerned about this?" 

I stood up, maintaining my balance with the help of the chair and made my way over to Pelle or more so, his bed. The modern comfort was enough to make me lay back and sleep this worry off since I knew I was already safe. In my own confused way, I felt comfort around Pelle, despite all the horrible things I was told about him. Varg mentioned a few things to me that really stuck out, but I could never see it. The fact he pulled a knife on me should have sent me running for the hills, but I accepted the moment of not caring what happened to me. In a way, it's a problem for anyone that doesn't see it as normal and would draw concern. Fear was far from my mind, since I knew that my job was risky once I sighed my contract. 

"If I lived in constant fear for my life, then I'm not living." I sighed."I have had many bad things happen to me that I should be dead." 

I chuckled as if it was some dumb joke, but I didn't hear Pelle say anything and just went on sipping on my tea. He stayed silent for a few moments before clearing his throat and standing up to go to his desk. I wasn't sure if I upset him or if he didn't want to talk anymore about the situation. Even now, I found it odd, I never saw him one when I showed up and he just somehow knew where I was sleeping. I had no clue how Pelle could see in the pitch black when I couldn't even see a hand in front of my face. I consumed my tea and placed the empty cup on the nightstand as Pelle worked on whatever it was. 

His movements were swift, and It took me a second to realize he was writing something down in a small booklet. I wanted to ask about it, but I didn't want to irritate him an further since I was in his personal space. I felt tired and naturally wanted to go home, but I had no idea where I was or how far I had traveled to get here. This was the worst time to lose my memory since I could have traveled to another town or maybe even further. 

"I have clothing you can change into, I can only image how overheated you are in the sweater." He pointed to the closet. 

The refreshing air that was in the room didn't really help and I felt like I was suffocating in my own skin and felt exhausted. I stood up, my legs began to wobble with each step I took, but I made it to the closet to find a shirt. By this point I really didn't care and just grabbed a random shirt, making certain I left the hanger where I obtained it. I looked over my shoulder to a working Pelle who seemed to ignore the fact I was about to be half naked. His back was turned away from me, but there's always that chance he might look back and see. I quickly slipped into the closet, closing the door, so I was efficient to change without making it awkward. I put the shirt on first since I wasn't able to slip out of my jeans just yet. 

As I was getting dressed, I couldn't help but notice a foul smell that was admitted from the closet. I more I stayed in there, the stronger it got, but it was hard to tell where it was coming from. The smell itself was almost familiar to me, but I was having a hard enough time getting dressed to even think about it. The closet space wasn't all the large, but it was enough to keep me covered until I got dressed. I slipped out of my jeans, the smell becoming over powering when I put Pelle's shorts on. I wanted to find the smell, but I was becoming dizzy and weary from just standing still for too long and vacated the closet with my clothing. 

I finally felt the invigorating air strike my legs and achieved its way up and around my body as a shiver hit me. Pelle turned to me, looking concerned and kept looking behind me towards the closet. I wasn't going to ask and decided to step away and go back into his bed for warmth.  
I could feel his eyes observing me with each step that made me sweat, but I wrapped myself up, but kept my upper half exposed. He halted what he was doing, securing the small booklet and placed it into one of the drawers and left the desk to sit next to me. He sat on the edge, looking down at the floor as he fiddled with his fingers in thought. I wasn't sure if it was something I stated or something I did or maybe there was something else on his mind. He tapped his foot on the floor before he threw himself back onto the bed next to me, causing me to jump. 

"What do you really think about me?" He asked. 

"Does it matter what I think?" I asked. 

" Kind of." He sat up. " I just want to make sure you're not interviewing me because of all the usual things I do." 

"Pelle, I promise you that it's nothing like that. " I said. " I don't want to make tabloids or blow the whole story out of proportion."

Pelle didn't seem impressed and I knew that he was going to keep pressing the matter. He shifted himself so he was sitting up, towering over me as I tried to relax into the bed. There was a possibility that I could have upset him due to my hazy state, but I had nothing to say. I wasn't sure what he wanted me to say since we hardly knew each other and he hasn't really told me anything about him.

" Are you going to tell me?" He asked.

" I know you're only trying to make a difference for this band. " I spoke. " I was kind of hoping I would know more about you, but I know you are a private person."

" I guess I do make it a bit difficult, but so do you."

Well, he got me there.

" You'll know more about me when I'm not working."

I wasn't sure if he was convinced or not, but I didn't know any other way to make him believe me. I heard him sigh and sink into his bed as we sat there in silence until we heard movements around the house. We both perked up as we heard muffled groaning and bottles moving around the floor. We heard the front door open and close as cars were turned on and made their way out of the lot. I looked over to the clock as it flashed the number five every two seconds. There was still no sunlight and I felt myself slipping back into slumber from looking up at the ceiling. I rested my rest on the plush pillows and curled up with the blanket that Pelle had given me. I heard him humming softly and in a low tone as he shifted himself properly on the bed to lay down. I threw part of the large blanket on top of him and he snuggled closer to the wall with a few small pillows. I was comfortable on the edge of the bed, feeling the warmth return to my body.

My back was turned to Pelle which made it clear that our conversation was over for now. I never imaged we would be sharing a bed again since Pelle had every right to send me elsewhere to sleep. I wasn't sure why I took it upon myself to sleep here because I'm sure there had to be more rooms in this house. All this over thinking was starting to hurt my head even though I already had one to begin with.

I just wanted to sleep.


	11. You're Something To Die For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit is about to get real man.

She was asleep, but Pelle was afraid to shift or even caress her. 

He had just woken up from his short slumber in an attempt to move around in his bed and forgot there was another body next to him. He never imagined having a girl in his bed, sleeping next to him to find a peaceful face. He usually was harshly rejected, but he never actually intended getting anyone to sleep with him. Pelle knew it would never happen, despite how much he was commented on his look, he still was considered too scary. 

Arthricia’s peaceful form brought him comfort in a way and even sparked some light happiness inside his chest. The vocalist took in every detail as if he was going to forget what it was like to have warmth next to him. Her long ebony hair was scattered all over his favorite pillow and shined with pride. Pelle was surprised by the amount she had and thought that it was difficult for her to have to pin it up every morning. There was a faint smell of flowers and vanilla come from her and he figured it was her hair or maybe she wore some perfume. Her skin was luminous and looked like she didn’t wear makeup in her life which he was fine with. Too many girls looked like clowns or two dollar hookers when they caked that shit on their face. Her lips were a light peach color, full and not a hint of dry skin anywhere. Her lashed reminded him of raven wings due to them being black and perfectly lined up from short to large.

How did he manage to seize this gorgeous creature to even glance his way? 

The quietness was almost tangible; no rustle of clothing or breathing could be audible. Even the once creaking of the building settling was stilled as though to order. The morning light has spread across the emerald forests, threatening to penetrate the heavy curtains throughout the house. The frosty air of last night turned to dew and warmth, giving off a pleasant smell of burnt wood no far off. It was genuinely the only few things that made this odd living situation pleasant. Being isolated was nice, but the smells were what made the whole thing come together. Pelle would never give this up, even if his roommates drove him insane to the point he wanted to leave. 

Was this the most intimate thing he would have to another relationship? 

Pelle grimaced at the thought, knowing that would never happen again, but this all seemed familiar to him. That ship has already sailed, and it didn’t take long for it to sink to the bottom of the ocean. He didn’t want to think about that mess, but it was hard to fall asleep with negative things on his mind. He sighed, feeling movement from the other side of his bed and was instantly relieved that Arthricia was just keeping her blanket close. A gentle sigh came from her as she moved around comfortable around the bed, barely touching Pelle when Arthricia stretched out. 

“Stop thinking and go to sleep. “ 

Something in Pelle slightly jumps, not expecting her to mention anything or even possessed the knowledge that he was awake. Maybe he was moving around too much or perhaps he was breathing too hard and she was a light sleeper. 

“How long have you been awake?” He asked eagerly. 

“I woke myself up when I stretched out.” She let out a small yawn. “My head is throbbing.” 

Arthricia shifted onto her back, adjusting the blanket over her slim body as she moved her pillow around to her neck comfortably. She had to move her hair around, so she wasn’t pulling it and placed it all above her head as it draped over the pillow once more. Pelle smelt the overpowering scent once more and felt the tinge in his chest from before and pretended he wasn’t felling jubilated. He was trying his best not to act weird around her or make her feel uncomfortable, but he guesses that was just his nature. His eyes darted around the room; looking at the various posters and art, he created himself over time. He didn’t brother to persuade anyone up into his room since they already were judgmental of his character and would think his hobby was odd. 

He never genuinely cared for posers or people that could barely come up with any legitimate insults, it entertained him really. However, when it’s constant, Pelle will start believing those things and think more about his death if anything. It was a comforting option that made him feel warm inside because he knew he was ultimately going to be seduced by it. The more he thought about it, the more he would sink deep into those negative thought and be comforted by his own death. For Pelle, something like that was unavoidable, and he would select that choice without thinking about it thoroughly. 

“Sleep is important Pelle. “Arthricia spoke. 

Her voice was hoarse and hazy, but Pelle knew that she was right even though sleep was far from his mind at the moment. 

“I know but…”

“I’m confident it can wait. “ 

Arthricia didn’t move from her spot, but she did have her eyes exposed to look over at Pelle. Her gaze was almost haunting even though it was obvious she was exhausted and willing to sleep the day away. Pelle examined her face for any emotion, but his gaze drifted off to her eyes that he never got the chance to study. The more Pelle analyzed them, the more he enjoyed the comforting warmth of light pass by his being. The interesting color captivated him, an orange hue or some sort of glow from a sunset going down. Either way, Pelle was mesmerized and stuck in place, willing to do anything she would demand of him. It was like approaching her for the first time even though the whole time he was looking at her face to observe her horrified expression. Not once did Arthricia indicate any sigh of distress or disgust and that’s what fascinated him the most about this woman. The first time he saw her; it was her eyes that got the vocalist attention when he got close to her. 

He would never admit this to anyone, but he was looking for her after the show and to no avail. It was pure luck Arthricia found him the way she did and also luck on his part for finding her again. Pelle had no clue why he even cared to encounter this woman again because it will only end in turmoil. Pelle’s thought were starting to get the best of him to where he didn’t notice a blanket being thrown on top of him. It was risky on Arthricia part, but she made decision to move closer to the blonde. Pelle still hadn’t noticed even when she wrapped her slender arm over to his torso and rested her head on his chest. His sore heart pattering against his rib cage like an exotic bird desperately wanting to break free from its porcelain prison. Pelle didn’t really know what to do in a situation, but didn't stop it from happening and continued to look up at the ceiling. He slowly wrapped his arms around her petite frame, thinking that maybe it was the valid thing to do in return. The warmth Arthricia was providing him was enough to secure him to fall asleep, but he still felt strange about this. 

“Sleep Pelle, things will get better.” 

What exactly is their relationship? 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That was all it took.

A girl known as Astrid was peeking through the crack of the door, clenching her chest in agony as she observed the scene unfold in front of her. Her body shook with anger as tears streamed down her face, running her perfect eyeliner she took time to carefully place. Astrid violently twirled her red and blond hair around her fingers, twisting a few small strands of her hair due to her upset state. Astrid’s heart gradually conducted its time to crumble into pieces as she saw the smile on both their faces. The way they caressed each other, the warmth that she so desperately wanted from Pelle, was going to another woman. Astrid bit down on her nail, breaking it and then biting another as her emotions let loose in the hallway. Her finger tips bleed as she bites down to deep and stopped herself from tearing into her own skin. Her thin black dress was torn at the ends from her cutting and pulling at the small strings, causing holes. Astrid made herself look pretty for tonight, but quickly tore herself down once she realized she wasn’t getting what she wanted. Her hair was a matted mess with makeup and beer that someone spilled all over her and her arm was still bleeding from cutting herself. 

Astrid lips curled into a crud snarl as she huffed to herself, trying to decide if she should barge in and injure the other woman. That should be her wrapped up so lovingly around Pelle, not that normal looking poser. Her intentions were explicit, Astrid had fallen head over heels for the blond vocalist only to be rejected or dismissed as an ordinary groupie. She had been waiting all night to see Pelle, to ultimately display him how she absolutely felt and the rest would be history. She would do anything for them to be together, even if the meant dying for him or killing. She had to do something fast or would lose to the other woman, and Pelle would never desire her. 

Astrid had been to every show and was transfixed on only the lead singer who instantly got her attention. She followed him around like a loyal dog, but didn’t receive the proper attention she genuinely wanted as she had to fight for Pelle’s attention. He barely noticed her when there were other women crowding around his band mates, hoping to get laid. They had a short conversation, and that’s where she messed up by trying to pry into his life and hang around him. Despite the petty rejections, she would still show up, demonstrating her lifelong dedication with pride. Pelle either never noticed her sad attempts or purposefully ignored her as a way for her to get the hint. She never comprehended why he was always running away from her when all she wanted to do was love and support him. 

It was all going to well until that woman showed up and took everything from her. 

Astrid had spotted Arthricia getting close to the stage to take pictures of the local band and at first she didn’t mind, until Pelle gazed to long. She saw the dark haired the attention was off her and was instantly onto this common nobody that looked like she didn’t belong. That’s when the anger turned into pure hatred and she would make sure that this woman would never come back again. She knew Arthricia would be taking pictures which meant she would have to pull the film out and replace it every few minutes. Once Arthricia was preoccupied, she seized the chance to pick up a pig head and chucked it hard as she could at the other woman. Astrid couldn’t help, but smile at the thought of her getting an infection and possibly losing her hand. She eagerly watched Arthricia, even when the show had ended she maintained her eye on her. Every time Astrid looked at Arthricia; jealousy took over as she couldn’t help but admire how better looking Arthricia was than her. 

Astrid slowly walked away from the door, anger and sadness still present as she went to go hide back into the guest room. She had spent the night in a room crammed full of groupies who were passed out drunk and half-naked. She made her way to the guest bathroom to cleanse her face and maybe even re-apply her makeup incase Pelle woke up again. She looked into the mirror, getting disgusted with herself as she depended on the water and sloshed it on her face. She didn’t have flawless skin or long flowing hair like Arthricia, but she tried making herself presentable for Pelle. She was thin, had nice legs and even nice facial features if she didn’t cake on makeup all the time. Her face was smeared with makeup as Astrid attempted lathering her face clean and the impurities off. She scrubbed hard, making her face turn red as she slashed more and more water onto her face before punching the mirror. Glass shards crumbled into the sink, clanking around as she slowly removed her fist from the mirror. Fresh blood was caked around the skin and now the floor as she rested her hand to her side, gathering a deep breath. 

“That should be me, me!” 

She took one final look in the mirror before going back into the bed room to rest up for tonight. The Astrid got lucky when she entered back into the room to find everyone was still passed out. Astrid glared at each and every one of them, thinking how easy it would be to slit their throats in their sleep. No one would miss them anyway; they all looked the same and wanted to bang the same guy. She placed herself back into the luxurious bed, covering herself with the only blanket in that entire room to further her plan. 

“You’ll be mine, forever.”


	12. Just Do Everything I Tell You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh lord, the writers block I am having right now.  
> The next up date will be May 24th if not May 31st.  
> I got school and work to focus on at the moment and I also want to kick off my second story.

“I’m guessing you don’t recall anything?” 

I stood comfortably in the gleaming kitchen, my mind still hazy from last night as I gently swayed my head at the male. It felt as if I had just woken up from a coma with that amount of sleep I had been offered. Pelle was awake before me, waiting anxiously for me to make a move so he could talk to me. We were currently standing in the kitchen with fresh cups of coffee and small slices of toast wavering its intoxicating scent in front of me. My head was still throbbing despite the pain killer I was given from a small candy dish that was smashed in the living room. There were assortments of pills scattered around the semi-plush carpet and of course, glass. The classic dish reminded me of something that my doting grandmother would typically have in her living room by the door as you walked in. Trying to nimbly avoid sprawled out bodies and shattered glass was the complex part since my essential balance wasn’t graceful. I received bruises all over my legs which could explain my clumsy walking and shooting pain going up and down my feet. I forgot that Pelle was nice enough to lend me some of his clothing, but I didn’t want my legs to be exposed due to the bruises.

“ How could I, some asshole drugged me.” 

The floor wasn’t any better, sticky from all the beer and coke that was sloshed all over the place. It would seem that Pelle’s house guest didn’t have respect for the house or even their hosts. I could never image myself in this situation let alone live like this for the rest of my life. Being surrounded in this environment constantly reminded me of the days of when my parents were still together and hosted parties like this. The cigarette smoke circling around the room and clinging onto anything to make it smell toxic. The all extremely familiar smell of a brothel and stale beer was enough to make me retch all over the place. Those were unpleasant times and having them repressed was for the better, but there were always certain smells to import them back. 

“I do recall a few things, like the unpleasant smell in your closet and… Yeah. “I said. 

Pelle raised an eyebrow at me, but he didn’t bother commenting on the mention of his closet and began to consume his gourmet coffee. I did that same, not bothering to mention the closet again since I was certain I was precise about a dead mouse. I felt guilty for even bring it up since I was sure it was a problem, given the state of the house before everyone vandalized it. Pelle’s closet was suffocating since so much stuff had been shoved into one medium size space. I winced when I moved cautiously off the floor and onto the kitchen counter to give my legs a frequent break. The counter seemed to be the only thing that was clean despite the empty cups and women’s clothing that was tossed without a care. The afternoon light seemed to brighten up the visible bruises and I could essentially see how black and blue they absolutely were. I finished my coffee and the last bite of toast that was placed next to me as Pelle finished his own. 

The profound silence isn’t what bothered me, but the constant movement around the house put me on edge. I had no idea the layout of the house or how many people actually had been invited to this so called small get together. 

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” asked Pelle. “You know, touching?”

“No, to be honest is kind of a new feeling to me.” 

I had never been in a relationship let alone touched another person due to my job and the fact I didn’t enjoy people. I never saw the big deal of being with someone since I could be by myself without worrying about another person. The dating game to me was a big joke since it either ended badly or those people would merely settle for less due to not wanting to be alone. I maybe went on one date and that turned into a massive disaster since the guy was obviously there for one reason and that was to get laid. The whole idea of dating or even being with someone put me off for awhile and still has. 

“Wait, a new feeling?” Pelle seemed confused “Are you saying you never had a boyfriend or something?” 

“It’s nothing I ever considered.” I wanted more coffee, I needed to feel clean at least. 

Talking about this wasn’t thoroughly causing me feel any better, but I suppose if Pelle wanted to waste time, so be it. I had nothing better to do today’s since half the day was gone anyway, just like my memory. Pelle never expanded to me what had happened to me and maybe that was for the best, but I still needed to know. I do recall him waking me up, providing me clothing and talking to me as I fell asleep. I knew at some point I had woken up to discover him wandering through his mind, which concerned me. The look on his face was conflicted as if he was fighting a war with himself and the thoughts he was having. 

I lightly jumped off the counter, winced from the shocking pain going up and down my legs. I should have worn my socks; it was cold and the floor was sticky with everyone’s odd mixture of terrible messes. The sounds of my bare feet sticking to the floor made me cringe and my movements slow with each disgusting smack. I examined the bottom of my sore feet to find cigarette ash, coke and god knows what else, but I wanted it off my feet now. I sighed, pouring my last cup of coffee and topping it off and took small little sips here and there. The hazy state of my mind was gone for the time being, but that didn’t mean the throbbing would leave soon. The dingy window in the kitchen was covered in filth, making it impossible to perceive anything with ease. The trees were blurred out with white and green details and the cars looked like the same compact objects.

“We should go back upstairs.” 

I don’t know why, but the thought of going back upstairs sounded far comforting than being trapped down here. I guess the way he said it made me feel welcome and include even though I would have to leave soon. I nodded at him in agreement, but pointed down at my feet and towards the sink making it known I was not leaving until my feet were clean. Pelle just shrugged, assisting me to find soap from underneath the sink and tossing it my way. I grimaced at the sight of the sink, swiftly turning the water on to get my feet wet and began to lather the soap around my feet. I could feel the filth coming off even though it was now covering my hands and the used plates underneath me. I’m confident the whole time I was washing my filthy feet I was making faced and groaning noises of disgust. I looked around for a towel to dry my feet off with, but there was nothing and let my feet dry over the counter. 

“ I’m sorry you have to live like this.” I told him, watching the water drip form my feet. 

“Here, I can carry you.” "

“Are you sure?” I asked. 

I was about to protest when I realized my cleaning efforts would be for nothing. I had forgotten that ash and beer had been spilled below my area and yet I still managed to stand in that mess to eat breakfast. I moved closer to Pelle so I would be easy to grasp, but I encountered obstacles like cups and empty bottles in my way. Groupies starting emerging from upstairs and right into the living room, not caring if they stepped on people. They seemed bewildered about their surroundings as they tried finding their shoes, purses and other things they might need. They didn’t notice Pelle and I as we all stared at them in disbelief since their fashionable clothing was reviling to say the least. It required every bit of strength I had not to laugh at them and tease them about how ridiculous they all looked. Their makeup was smeared across their face, their hair matted up and probably smelling like sweat. I thought the living smelled terrible, I was lucky to not have the pleasure of brushing up against these girls. 

One in particular stood out and it was a tall blond with red tips in her glossy hair who was wearing a ripped black dress. She looked like she had been crying fiercely and her hand was caked with blood as she kept it hidden to her chest. She would walk past the living room pretending to look for something, but stare fiercely at Pelle and I. I’m certain she was just hung-over and a bit irritated that she was woken up and was asked to leave, but I harbored my suspicions. The way she moved around like a snake and she made sure we knew our attention was on her. She looked ready to strike or maybe say something she was going to regret later, due to her state of mind. She casually made her way over to our side of the kitchen, the kitchen keeping Pelle and I separated from her. She tapped her fingers on the counter; I took note that some where shorter than the other and bleeding. Her smile was anything, but friendly as she made a feeble attempt to show her pearly white. She leaned forward, almost touched my leg in the process as she flaunted her assets towards Pelle. 

“Where were you late night? I wanted to hang out.” Her careless voice was cheery and obviously fake as she plastered a sickly sweet smile over her face.

Pelle didn’t say a word to her as she went on and on about last night and how much she sorely missed him. I felt Pelle move closer to me and snatched me off the counter without a second thought and head upstairs. It happened so fast I didn’t have time to properly register that we were already in his private room with the door shut. I could feel his heart patter hard against his chest as he attempted to regain his breath and look around eagerly. Nothing from what I could tell has changed, but maybe he was concerned that one of the girls was in his room. It was typical for a fan to obtain something from their idol, but I never imaged what the outcome would be in the end. I didn’t see the point of getting a souvenir when they possessed the real thing in front of them; I guess the experience wasn’t enough.

“Pelle is everything alright.” 

“Who the hell invited her?” He asked himself. 

Was he talking about the girl with red tips in her hair? 

He made his way to his disheveled bed; blankets still warm and messy from an hour or so ago. Pelle’s demeanor changed from worried to straight paranoid as he maintained him eye on the door. I could only hope she wasn’t going to make her way up here and taunt him in anyway. I could detect the disgusted look on his face when he saw her, but I still didn’t understand why. I knew getting involved would make the situation worse if I stuck my nose where it wasn’t need, but Pelle was panicking

“So who is she?”

“A stalker.” Pelle replied. “Stay away from her.”


	13. Cherry Waves

I wasn't sure what to do anymore.

I had spent days, weeks and before I knew it, 2 months of taking pictures. I decided to get a side job since I still wasn't paid for my story I sent back to Seattle, I wasn't' surprised. I decided to keep in contact with my lawyer in case I was getting cheated out of a decent paycheck and my original work. Taking pictures of models was more entertaining and I was paid more since I utilized my own materials. The girls were nice, and I had no issues with the magazine or even the CEOs who owned the company. I had been typically to so busy that I haven't spoken to Pelle since he informed me about his stalker. I told him I wasn't concerned since I had moved to a different part of Oslo and had no reason to go to the party's anymore. 

I could tell he was a bit hurt by what I stated, but I had to prompt him and myself that I would be going home soon. We spend the rest of the day watching movies, and he even showed me his art portfolio I hadn't noticed before. Solely thinking about him made me feel guilty since I had been avoiding him and his bands mates. Varg would come once in awhile to see how I was doing and would try to persuade me to vacate my private apartment. I maybe left with him once to a coffee shop since I was humbly craving their sweet cakes and mild coffee.

Varg said Pelle wasn't doing so effectively and that they would be fleeing for Germany to perform a grueling tour. I genuinely thought about Varg's offer to ride with him on the express train and contact him a hotel. I had the money to go, but my key obstacle would be seeing Pelle and having to explain myself to him. I had a feeling he comprehended I was avoiding him, but never bothered to telephone me or visit. It was possible he too was eluding me, and I really didn't condemn him for that. My only reasoning was so I wouldn't get attached than I already was since I actually liked being around him. I felt bad because I knew I had missed out on an undoubtedly good friendship that was impossible from the beginning. 

I genuinely considered Varg's offer, but I had to return home and see how much my mail box had filled. I had a house sitter, knowing how lazy they were and would expect payment for doing nothing. The concert would be in a month, so it would give me enough time to get my fairs in order, but I was skeptical. I would undergo four more sessions with the models, but I already had a few of my things stowed. I did lack the extra money and after all,I did plan on coming back to Norway for some last minutes shots. For now however, I had some decisions to make and that thought of going home only added to the pile of stress I already had. I knew there would be piles of mail waiting for me and of course my job which I was starting to loath. I could just be a part time photographer, but the trade itself was competitive and it's something I didn't desire to fall back on. I can't really imagine myself taking pictures of people in the same poses, trying to come up with ideas for backgrounds. 

I placed myself on the windows ledge, drinking my last cup of scalding tea for the bleak night as I thought about sleep. I wondered if I should call Varg to ask to see if Pelle was home so we could talk. I needed to manage the uncomfortable feeling out of my body before I left, but Pelle wasn't easy to talk to. I was certain that maybe I was making a big deal out of this and that I would only be squandering Pelle's personal time.I just wanted it to be pretty straight forward, but no one likes to be cornered and asked invasive questions. I hated thinking about these sorts of things since I was trying my best to unwind from two weeks worth of work. I was given four days off since the photo shoot was a success and I would be called If I was needed to take more shoots. 

I sighed, going eagerly to the kitchen to properly clean my tea cup and left in the cherry wood cupboard since it will not be traveling with me. I placed my hands over my face, letting out the deepest sigh of frustration as I walked back to my living room. I knew deep down I didn't at to go back to Seattle and wanted to be blissfully ignorant in Norway. I should have just allowed someone else enjoy my lease and resign my job if I knew it was going to be this difficult. I thought more about my mail box being over filled by my mothers constant apology letters. I knew it was a way for her to try and coax me to come and visit her, but I was no fool. I kept the letter anyway in a box under my bed to see if maybe there was something useful in them. My first letter, she gave me her and my fathers wedding ring which of course I kept. I just stopped reading the letter due to the pain and the excuses she would make for herself. There was no hope for my mother to ever accept the responsibility of what she had done and would always blame someone.

Every week or some times, every other day, a letter would show up to taunt me to open it. I wanted to open them all and read them, but I can never look at her inked lies. It's unfortunate enough being rejected by both sides of the family due to conflicting views on both sides. I knew from day one that I was never truly accepted as a member of the family, but sometimes they send my cash. I don't know if it's out of guilt or if it's payment to keep me from silent from saying anything bad about them. a number of news outlets wanted to know about my mother and her past, but I refused and hide from the world. After awhile, it stopped and they tired to find any family member that would talk about the murder. Thankfully, no one talked out of sheer embarrassment, but my grandmother always said my mother was innocent and blamed my father. 

I chuckled grimly at the thought, oh yeah, it's my deceased father's fault my crazy bitch of a terrible mother snapped. 

None of my family members knew about my job, where I occupied or barely grasped what I looked like. They only got my addressed because of my mother who guilt tripped them into sending me extravagant things. I remember I was going to write a private book about how fucked my family was and then give it to the media to expose them. My mother's side was rich and own businesses, private homes, local dealerships and even a makeup company that sells expensive skincare products. As for my fathers side, they lived in Arizona and owned a few elegant restaurants in phoenix. They don't call or send me things, but they did send me my fathers old records and clothing when I moved to Seattle. I never bothered to reach out to either side since I was a painful reminder or because I was a mixed race. I could only image how easy it would be to let their precious lifestyle crumble into a millions pieces if I ever did release the book.

I had to be careful with that sort of thing since they possessed money to make the issues go away. 

I decided now would be the time to open that bottle of wine and forget about these negative thoughts. I was going to save it for my last day in Noway, but there was no point since the time was slipping fast. The bottle had been neatly wrapped up in a crimson ribbon and carefully cradled in a brown bag. I popped the top off, taking my first swig and then it turned into a few gulps as it sloshed around the bottle in waves. I took another large gulp, letting the bitterness slide down my throat and forgetting what I was thinking about.

I felt the goosebumps take over as I winced from the bad after taste I should have been use to by now. This would defiantly be a good way to sleep for the night if I finished the whole bottle. Sadly, i'm not a light weight and was more concerned about keeping the wine preserved for another sleepless night. Drinking wasn't my thing, so it was easy to decline drinks unless I poured it myself. 

I stood up from the floor and went to the couch and decided to finish reading my book before going to sleep. I could tell my moods were going in all directions thinking about shit that's out of my control at the moment. Before I could settle in my usual spot, I noticed my sketch pad had been laying open on the couch. I forgot that I was in the middle of a sketch before my fingers decided to cramp up. I sat down, placing the book on the coffee table and flipped through the pad before a specific sketch caught my eye. At first it took me awhile, and I realized that it was the sketch of Pelle from the night we met. The sketch was simple, Pelle's hair and the blanket he wrapped himself in had detail. His eyes were closed as he struggled to keep the book in his hands, keeping a hold of the plush blanket. In my opinion the sketch really didn't show how peaceful he was as he made the attempt to fight sleep. I was careful not to smug the drawing with my finger tips as I traced the lines with my shadow. 

" Pelle"

I tossed the sketch pad back onto the couch and reached for my book, casually flipping through to find my mark. I needed to distract myself before the realization of never seeing Pelle again sets in. I ever understood the power that people had over others when it came to missed connections. There is eternally a feeling of dread and the last minutes willingness to stay for that person. Its a feeling that can easily tear you apart and make you feel guilty about leaving behind what you thought was important. Just the thought was enough to make my chest hurt, but I was thinking about how I left things with Pelle. 

I basically abandoned him in that house with Euronymous and of course his odd tendencies Varg mentioned. I closed my book, having the sudden realization that Pelle probably thought that I rejected him in someway like everyone else. The guilt was getting overwhelming by this point and there was no way to just push this down like all my other feelings. In a way, I felt this was undoubtedly karma merely doing her job and make me realize my mistake of the situation. 

"What the hell is wrong with me?" I asked myself. 

How could I have been so thoughtless to deny Pelle what he desperately wanted? 

That was my breaking point; I threw the book making it hit the wall and knocked some objects over. I stood up from the couch, pacing around as I ran a hand over my mess hair, trying to find something to distract myself with. I could feel the tears threatening to spill from the corner of my eyes, but ceased it immediately and went back to the kitchen. I decided to polish off the rest of the wine, guzzling down the bitter red stream that left the visible top. Before I knew it, the wine was gone and I was left alone with my thoughts again. 

The thoughts of being rejected, denied the love and affection from people I thought cherished me, but I was wrong. I could see that in a way Pelle was like me, but everything was working backwards and not going forward. Pelle was experiencing how I still feel even though I choose to bury the shameful past and move on from it. Even now, it managed to creep up on me due to harsh reminders I wish would just leave me alone. I gathered a deep breath, tossing the wine bottle in the trash and going to the window for air. 

The streets were lit with extraordinary colored lights, illuminating the side walks and people that trended across them. The air was brisk tonight, but the air smells foul with cigarette smoke and trash polluting everything. I shut the window, admiring the scenery one more time before closing the curtain to obscure my view. I decided that going to sleep was my best option even though that would involve tossing and turning even few countless hours. I sighed again, hoping this would be the final one for the night and was greeted with gentle knocks at my door. My body twitched at the sound and I figured maybe it wasn't my door, but I was proven wrong. 

I stood up, rushing to the door and stopping in front of the peephole to see a mass of blond hair. The person was angled in an odd position which means they were leaning on my door to cover their face. I heard a sighed from the other side and then another knock, but 0this time it was slow and almost lazy sounding. This person had to be drunk, but there was no way of knowing so I took the risk. 

I opened my door, the figure startled by my fast movement as they tried to adjust themselves up right. I had a hard time believing it was Pelle standing in front of me as his tired face showed me a weak smile. Pelle's hair was messy and knotted up like a nest and his clothing was ripped and his shoes untied.He leaned against the door frame, closing his eyes for a moment as he was catching his breath. I could see him shivering as he did this, but forced himself to stop so I wouldn't say anything about it. 

I wanted to say something to him, but I was at a loss for words when his gaze finally landed on me. He looked exhausted and ready to fall over at any moment, but he kept himself on the frame. After not seeing him for almost two months, I could already tell his health had changed drastically. I felt my concern reach an all time low and I only pulled Pelle into my apartment and closed the door behind him. I could see a re- run of our first encounter playing through my head, only certain parts have changed. I still had a hard time believing that Pelle was actually here and that this was an illusion. 

Pelle didn't nudge me away, in fact, he held onto me as I escorted him over to the couch to sit down. He began to relax deep into the plush couch and let out a sigh of relief once he was adept to improve his breathing. I inspected him closer, noticing how filthy he was and that his clothing was covered in dirt and small sticks. His hair got the worst of it all, matted and covered in sweat with dirt clumps clinging to his strands. I was thankful for the blanket that was spread out and made a mental note to wash it later. I'm surprised he didn't smell foul, but then again I did smell something the probably clung to him. Getting closer, I was familiar with the odd scent, but couldn't recall where I smelt it before. 

"Pelle, what happened?" I spoke. 

I was positive this had to be a figment of my disordered imagination because this was just inconvenient timing. I still wasn't sure how I was going to explain to him why I was avoiding him with out touching some feelings. I sat down next to him, watching his breathing steady as his gaze turned towards me. He was calm for the most part and tried to find his words, but stopped himself for a few seconds. I stopped him from saying anything and went to my room to grab him a few towels. I didn't hear any footsteps follow me and quickly rushed back into the living room.

" I sorry, I just ...." 

" Go take a shower and we'll talk about it."  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After an hour of fighting with blonde wet locks, every complex knot was gone.

Pelle didn't move once, and I was worried I was hurting him and made sure to be gentle as possible. He didn't shed as much as I did when I brushed my hair, but he would groan once in awhile if I brush a specific spot. Looking at my brush now I could see a large clump of hair tangled in the bristles. I placed the brush down by my night stand, wait for him to say anything, but he merely sat there looking at his hands. He kept pulling the sleeves of the long shirt I let him borrow down as he scratched as his wounds. I was well aware that Pelle was cutting himself, but I didn't think he was doing it off stage and yet I said nothing about it. I wrapped his wounds up once again and he didn't even flinch or move despite the cleaning process. Pelle looked satisfied with the shower and the small meal he was given, but something was bothering him.

" You wanna tell me what happened?" I asked. 

" I just missed you is all." 

I raised any eyebrow, but I doubt he could see it since he gaze was elsewhere at the moment. I didn't want to the press the issue any further since talking to him was going to be a challenge anyway. I had no idea how to reply to what he just said to me, but I was glad he said it. He wrapped himself up in one of my blankets and moved towards the head of the bed. I was already leaned against the headboard with my leg dangling off, touching the floor with the tip of my toe. It was comforting to know that he wasn't bitter about my sudden departure, but Pelle still didn't seem to happy about me leaving. 

" You know you're the first person outside my group to actually talk to me" He spoke. " Women avoid me. "

" Why?" I asked. " They must be stupid then, fuck them." 

I heard Pelle chuckle as he moved closer to my side to snuggle me and I allowed it. When I first saw Pelle on stage, I already knew about the groupie not wanting to go near him or anyone for the matter. I didn't see anything wrong with him, but then again I don't know much about his mental state. I don't dare ask Pelle about it for fear of upsetting him and never speaking to me again. I knew the attachment was going to be a permanent thing because the comfort of having someone by my side is a desire of mine. The way he stayed snuggled against me is making me start to change my mind, but I knew I would never hear the end of it from Kurt. He was currently house sitting for me and I agreed to let him stay there if it was just him and his band mates. 

" I don't like Euronymous. " I said. " I see the way he treats you and Karma is going to get him real bad." 

I wrapped an arm around Pelle and kept him close to as if that garden gnome would show up at any second. The thought of the man made me angry and I was glad I wouldn't have to see him anymore. I was worried about Pelle since he had to live with that walking disaster, but I guess he had nowhere else to go. He never had anything nice to say about where he grew up and how he felt stuck and I knew that feeling. Being surrounded by desserts and the dangers of the wilderness was something I wanted to avoid. I will probably never return home even if there was something important I left behind. 

Pelle gripped his hand around mine, lacing our finger together as he relaxed into me. I knew how badly I was going to miss all this, the affection and the late night talks. 

" I'll be sure you write to you everyday, I don't like technology."


	14. Come get your sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot damn.
> 
> This update took forever and I apologize, but my computer is shit and I have no money for a new one. I'm also in the process of moving again so that's been fun so far. I'm mostly trying to make sure everything is in order, but I felt the urge to write so I hope this chapter doesn't suck.

When I had arrived in Seattle, I was greeted with heavy cold rain.

I wasn't expecting a sunny welcome let alone a warm one since the chilling air was spreading throughout my apartment. Kurt had returned a few hours later and joined me in the living room with a small heater. I had forgotten I had left most of my things back in Norway, so my apartment was almost bare. Kurt added a few things of his here and there which didn't bother me and Eric said he would stay in Norway to watch over my things. Eric was hoping that I would return so we could visit and spend family time together, but I wasn't sure. Even though Eric is the only one I keep in touch with anymore, I still had my doubts about his parents.

Leaving Pelle was hard since we had spent the last few day's together, talking, watching movies and walking around late at night. He showed me his favorite spots in the forest and even showed me a really old cemetery. We would cuddle around the television, watching some horror movie that I never heard of as Pelle was holding me. I couldn't help but feel jubilation enter and exit my body whenever I thought about the memories. I knew my stay in Norway was long, but It felt as though I had spent no more than a few weeks in Oslo.

"So, who's the guy?"

Kurt pulled me from my thoughts and the depressing scenery and I only smirked at the vocalist. I had made sure that I had informed Kurt about Pelle and where I was always at. Surly Kurt had to know who the guy actually was, but I guess not.

"I have no idea who you are talking about."

"You've been smiling for the past week now, which is rare for you." Kurt commented, "You must really dig him eh?"

Well, he got me there and I was sure he knew my smile wasn't from returning home either. I had dreaded coming back, but I was paid in full for my story and now everyone naturally wanted a taste of black metal.

"Pelle's a pleasant guy, I'm certain you'll like him."

"From what you informed me, yeah, but from all those photos you showed me...maybe."

I let out a small chuckle and went back to look at the fierce rain as Kurt messed with his guitar.

"You should go to Germany Art; I'm certain he'll be delighted you showed up."Kurt places his guitar to the side." Furthermore, he gave you his necklace, surly that has to mean something."

I sighed, twirling the silver trinket around until I felt the small chain links tightening around my shirt. Maybe Kurt had a point, and I was refusing to accept the fact that maybe this could be so much more. It would be a huge let down if I was to develop feelings for someone that didn't reciprocate how I truly felt. I had enough money in case I wanted to take a journey to Germany, but I was hesitant. I got a few calls from him and of course Jorn once in awhile so he could instantly update me on Pelle's conditions. I knew Pelle didn't want me to know anything that personal, but I knew it was a per-caution for Jorn.

I'm glad I could be trust with such sensitive information.

_" I'm giving this to you." ___

_I raised my eyebrow at Pelle, only staying in place for him to place something cold and shiny into my hands. I inspected the object for a moment and realized it was one of his necklaces he always wore to his shows. I remember it getting caught up in a stand of my hair when we were cuddling, but we only laughed about it. I was taken aback since this was something I wasn't expecting, but he must be serious about our friendship. I wasn't a fan of wearing jewelry unless it was something my dad or cousin gave me, but this had an appeal for me. I could easily hide it under my shirt since it was long enough to catch on thinks like my hair for example._

"Is there a good reason?" I asked, twirling the cross between my fingers. " I'm not complaining, its a courteous gesture." 

"It just that certain fan's try to grab at me and I don't want to lose it." 

"When you say fan, do you mean your stalker?" I asked. 

"Yes." 

__ "I guess it won't be so bad ." I commented. " I'm sick of work anyway." 

____________\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The place was jammed of people, both sober and drunk who only staggered around to the music. Everyone was focused as the raw sounds bellowed out from the large speakers around the room. Flashes of cameras would go off once in awhile and then fade into darkness. Pelle was doing his best, but he had a lot on his mind about weather or not he would see his stalker. He had desperately tried convincing Euronymous not to make promotional flyers and inform certain people,but he was ignored. Pelle didn't want to deal with Astrid tonight or anyone if he was going to be honest with himself. After doing three shows in one night, he wanted to relax and withhold himself from the public._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Pelle was merely told that after the show that they would be greeting fans and hanging around the bar. He didn't want to stay and couldn't understand why he couldn't just go back to the hotel room. Euronymous was keen on keeping everyone there for whatever reason, both Jorn and Pelle of course were suspicious. The fact that there were more girls than guys in this bar was the first red flag. It was apparent why they were there, but Pelle expressed no interest in the girls or getting laid._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Once the show ended, everyone left the stage and headed for the bar._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Pelle moved himself to the back of the bar where there were no people and just watched his band mates make fools of themselves. Women surrounded them of all kinds, short, skinny and covered in makeup to seem more appealing. Pelle had a distaste for groupies because of how they acted and the things they did to get noticed. He noticed Jorn making his way to the table with a pitcher of beer, but wasn't in the mood to drink. The bassist looked exhausted as he tried pulling off a cheerful demeanor and sat down in front of Pelle. He filled the emptied glass he carried with him and gave one to Pelle._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" So, I know this isn't my business, but is your dear friend here?" Jorn asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" No, she's back in Seattle." Pelle snatched the glass. " I have a feeling she might be here."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Jorn didn't maintain the private conversation and just gulped down his beer as he listened to the music. He knew the blonde was depressed, but there was so much more to it than Arthricia leaving for home. He knew his stalker was stressing him out and of course all the responsibility's of the band. Jorn was careful to keep an eye out for the female and advise her to back off just like many tomes before._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" Where do you think she might be if she was here?" He asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" A hotel? a coffee shop? who knows."commented Pelle." I just...want to see her."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Pelle gulped down his beer and poured himself more, slamming down another glass. Jorn gently waved a waitress over to get more beer for Pelle and himself, it was going to be one of those nights._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" Hey, where did your necklace go?" Asked Jorn._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" I gave it to Arthricia." Pelle gulped down another polished glass. " It's better with her than me."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" You what?" he asked " I mean I guess, but why? What if you never see her again?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Pelle stopped drinking for a moment and leaned over the table to give Jorn a dirty look. He didn't like that sound of that or how it was presented to him. In fact, the notion of never seeing, touching or talking to Arthricia again infuriated Pelle. He could feel the buzz starting to take over by this point and didn't care what he was going to say._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" What the hell is that suppose to mean? " Pelle asked in a harsh tone. " You think she's like these sluts you guys hang out with?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Pelle couldn't help but laugh at the thought because he couldn't image Arthricia whoring herself out. She kept herself modest and was always polite and could get nasty when she wanted to be. The blonde knew that much about her, but he knew she was hiding things from him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" That's not what I suggested Pelle." Jorn finished off his glass. "How are you sure she feels the same way about you?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Pelle sneered at the question as he slouched into the booth, gripping his jacket over himself. The loud music and voices were starting to annoy him the more he sat there. All of these questions_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"What does it matter to you or anyone else?" He asked. " It's not like any of you got to know her."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" IT matters because it might set you off and make you do something reckless."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" It's that what i'm good at? Being reckless and hurting myself for entertainment?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________Pelle had enough; he got up from his seat and made his way to the exit, despite Jorn's protests._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I had gotten a last minute ticket thanks to Kurt's persistent nagging to flee the country._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The arrival was pleasant, but my body was tried and had a hard time trying to walk on the pavement. The hotel I was dropped off was pleasant looking and was also the cheapest I could find. I would have to look at the map later to see if there were any near by coffee shops. I hauled my bag over my shoulder and made my way to the front desk to check in. There was a short line of women and a couple who looked like they were on there honeymoon. I kept my eyes ahead and noticed someone that was in line with the other women. The blond hair with red tips were what caught my eyes and then that when I realized it was here, the stalker._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________She was dressed as if she was going on a date and put a lot into her looks and hair. She wore a short red dress, fishnets with polished black high heels with a leather jacket to keep herself covered. She seemed ordinary enough to me, but if Pelle's claims are true, I will do my best to avoid her. I noticed the other girls as well; they were the same ones from the party I was at. There was no doubt in my mind they were here to follow Pelle and the boys around. They obnoxiously checked in and made their way to the elevators as I kept my eye on the girl and moved with the line ahead. She looked like she was on a mission to seduce whatever unfortunate soul was going to encounter her tonight._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I had to remind myself to call Pelle that I was here since I wasn't sure what hotel he was staying at. I sort of chuckled to myself thinking how ironic it would be if he was staying at the same hotel as me. I made it to the front, checked in and made my way to the elevator, hoping that I would not run into Pelle's stalker. I thought about confronting her, but I was in no mood for drama and decided to stay out of it. The elevator was empty when I stepped in with my heavy bag and pressed the button to my floor. I gripped the key to my room and swung my bag over my shoulder once again and stepped out once I heard the ding. There were people hanging out in the hallway, going in and out each other rooms as they laughed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I sighed, now I understood why this room on this floor was so cheap._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I hustled my way though, desperately trying to get to my room and ignoring the intoxicated idiots around me. My room was in the middle of this chaos, but as long as they left me alone I didn't care. I secured the door behind me, turned on the light and instantly went to the bed._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" Oh thank god it's comfortable." I commented._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I stretched myself out on the queen size bed and smiled as I descended deeper into the bed. My peaceful thoughts were interrupted by loud crashes and insane laughter down the hallway. I knew this was going to happen all night and could only wonder if anyone was going to call in a complaint. I got up from the bed and decided to unpack all my belongings and maybe even take a shower after two days. I went straight to the bathroom, setting up for my night routine before taking a shower. The entire bathroom was pure white and had a heavy scent of bleach and cleaners. I was impressed with how big the tub was and decided that I was going to take a relaxing bath instead._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I placed the stopper into the tub and filled it with warm water and began to pour some of my rose oil in as well. I stripped out of my clothing and turned the water all the way to hot before getting in. I could feel the tingeing on my skin and forced myself to get use to the temperature of the water. The intoxicating scent of rose filled the air as I sank deeper into the tub to get my hair wet. I could hear knocking on my door, but decided to ignore it and continue to scrub my hair. It was probably one of those idiots trying to harass me and get me to drink with them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________The banging never went away and only became more persistent and almost frantic. I was starting to get annoyed by this point and banged my fist on the wall so they would hear it, but I made it worse. I finished scrubbing my hair and went to go rinse the soap out, hearing shouting and banging shake the whole bathroom._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" Fuck sake!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I shoot up from the bathtub getting as much water as I could out of my hair before grabbing a towel and my robe. I made sure my body was concealed just in case these guys got the wrong idea. All I demanded was to enjoy a relaxing hot bath, have one night to myself and maybe even get room service. I walked out of the bathroom, ready to aggressively confront this asshole who was disturbing me._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"Yeah, can I help you motherfuc-_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________In an instant, my anger vanished and I stood in my doorway starting at Pelle who was staggering around the hallway. He didn't seem to be getting to far since all he was doing was walking in a circle and running into the walls. It was clear he was drunk and having a hard time standing,let alone seeing what he was doing. No one seemed to pay any attention to him since everyone was still in the hallway being wild. I grabbed Pelle by his jacket to keep him still and looking only at me. He didn't seem to enjoy that and tried to pull away from me, but I had the upper hand._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________" Pelle" I called out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________His head shoot up as he tried his hardest to focus on my voice but he was squinting and looking around the hallway. He moved closer to me as I coaxed him into my room so he wouldn't cause any trouble. It took awhile, but I managed to shut and secure the door as he walked aimlessly around the enormous living space. he walked into a chair and almost collapsed into the wall, but he caught himself and sat down awkwardly in the chair. Pelle looked absolutely ridiculous sitting in the small chair, but he seemed delighted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"How much did you have to drink?" I asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________I overheard him chuckle as he shifted his feet across the floor as if he was making an attempt to dance. He kept his eyes closed for the most part and would move around like he wasn't even in his own body. I sat on the bed, keeping a close eye on him as he hummed to himself and moved his feet more rapidly. Pelle must have gotten the wrong room or maybe he wandered around and lost his way. Either way, he was here, drunk and likely didn't recognize who I was. Despite the roaring noises in the hallway, he didn't seem bothered and only focused on the floor._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

____________"What am I going to do with you?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
